The Parenthood Drabbles
by HecateA
Summary: A collection of drabbles honouring the parents of the Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus cast of demigods, gods and mortals.
1. Driving

**I was talking with another fan the other day about who the most antagonized and under-appreciated character in PJO was. And you know who came up the most? The parents. So I decided to write a series of drabbles, because oneshots are long and require a fixed amount of intelligent and thought-out ideas that thread together. The drabbles won't have anything to do with each other. Some happen when the characters are kids, some happen while they're dating their godly lovers, and some are about them with their kids. Expect updates one or two times a week. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters mentioned below.**

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**Driving**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson**

"Why were you late?" Percy asked his mom. She looked at him in the mirror and tried for another apologetic smile. Thankfully he didn't seem upset, nor had he looked scared of having been forgotten when she picked him up at school late.

"Gabe had the car, sweetie." She said parking in the shabby parking of their apartment. It was a wonder that the Cameo hadn't been stolen yet. Then again, it _stinked. _It reeked of Gabe- which took away the whole point of stealing it.

They got out of the car and Percy jumped onto the sidewalk like a frog. Sally put a hand on his back to lead him through the crowd.

"Why couldn't Gabe just pick me up?" Percy asked. Sally froze and knelt, turning Percy towards her. She her hands on his elbows as he looked at her sideways, a habit of his.

"Percy you've got to make me a promise, okay?" Sally said.

Percy looked at her with bright eyes.

"You can never get in the car with Gabe unless Mommy's there, or Mommy says it's alright. Okay?" She said.

Percy nodded. "Why?"

She froze in fear. She didn't want to explain alcohol to him. That was too much- it'd go too deeply, take too much of his much-needed innocence and expose some parts of family life that she didn't want him to know.

"Because sometimes Gabe can't drive right," Sally said. "And when he can't that... that doesn't mean that he won't try, and you could get hurt if you're in the car with him when he's... when he can't drive right. And that's the last thing we want, right?"

Percy shook his head 'No'. "The last thing I want is you to get hurt in the car with Gabe."

Sally smiled, pinching her lips at the same time, and pulled him in a hug, wrapping her arms around his backpack.


	2. Burgers

**Burgers**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

Mars used a hip throw and Emily was thrown on the ground. But a well-placed knee, a wrist grab and a fine use of momentum (if she did say so herself) reversed the roles so she was the one holding Mars down. This wasn't the first time she won over him during their sparring games, but it felt as rewarding as ever.

"I guess I owe you a burger," he said grinning up at her.

"You owe me a burger _and_ onion rings. The good kind." Emily bargained.

"Hmm. Say, at five o'clock?" Mars suggested. The tone in his voice and the shine in his eyes -somewhat nervous, mostly cocky and arrogant and proud and alive...

Emily cocked her head to the side and gave him a look.

"Did you just totally change where this was going and where it usually goes?" She asked.

"Yeah, I just did." He confirmed proudly.

"Pretty slick, god of war." Emily said getting up and lending him a hand that he didn't need but accepted in good sportsmanship. "Count me impressed enough to agree."


	3. Halloween

**Halloween**

**In the style of Frederic and Annabeth Chase**

He hadn't expected to have a daughter when he first got corrected by a classmate he'd never noticed in the university's campus library, but he should have expected that once he did she'd have the same piercing tell-tale eyes as her mother. He could always tell when she was looking at him, whether she was trying to spy on him or trying to get his attention.

"Daddy?" Annabeth finally asked. He turned towards his little girl, her long blonde curls nearly down her back, her grey eyes glittering. She was all muffled up for the cool autumn day that today had developed into, ready to confront October's cold to ask him whatever was on her mind as he raked leaves and decorated the porch with yellow caution tape and dangling skeletons.

"Yes sweetheart?" He asked.

"You're old enough to see the action movies at the cinema right?"

"Of course," he said. He was trying to guess where it was going- he was always so surprised by what question his little girl could bring out of the blue.

"So does Spiderman kill spiders usually? Like, how many minutes of screen time pass until Spiderman kills a spider on average?" She asked.

"Well I'm sure that he would do it if a spider bothered him, but that's not his primary goal, no." Frederic said.

"Oh," Annabeth said. Her grey eyes were pondering something heavily. "Daddy I think I need to change my costume idea for Halloween, then."


	4. Rice

**Happy New Year's, folks!**

**Rice**

**In the style of Lauren, Thalia and Jason Grace**

Thalia studied the measuring cups as if they'd been delivered to her in a package from Japan.

"Mom, how does rice work?" Thalia called out after accepting that she did not understand.

Her mother slowly walked out of her bedroom and into the room, like a zombie, a hand on her forehead. She watched the open pack of rice, the measuring cups, the unboiling pot of water on the stove and her daughter's frustrated and impatient eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'll do it." She said attempting to take the measuring cup away from Thalia. Thalia ripped her hand back.

"How does rice work?" She repeated strictly, dryly, unforgivingly.

Lauren sighed. "Two cups of rice and four cups of water," she said. "I have a headache. I'll go lie down again."

Thalia ignored that and started measuring out the rice instead.

Someone grabbed onto her legs. She looked at her right and saw Jason smiling at her with small teeth.

"Lia I'm hungry." He said.

"Yeah I know Argos, I'm making supper," Thalia smiled. "How's rice and chicken fingers and baby carrots?"

"No rice. Bad carrots. Chicken fingers," Jason said.

"Hmm- no," Thalia said. "Rice and chicken fingers and carrots."

Jason shook his head like that was a really bad idea. "Chicken fingers."

"You can't _live _off chicken fingers Jason," she said.

Jason frowned, unable to understand why not.

Thalia smiled and ruffled his hair.

"I promise that rice works," she said. "We'll be okay, Argos."


	5. Sticking Together

**Sticking Together**

**In the style of Sally Jackson and May Castellan**

It wasn't often that people demanded to see Mr D.

It wasn't often that people _wanted_ to see Mr D.

It wasn't often that mortals demanded to see Mr D.

Heck, it wasn't often that anything on the behalf of immortals was demanded by a mortal, but if someone had to do it than Sally Jackson was the best set to do it.

"Yes Will, Mr D." Sally nodded.

Will frowned. "But… you do know what that means… right?"

"Of course I do," Sally said. "Thank you sweetheart."

"I'll be late. Luke's going to be back anytime now." May said nervously next to her. She was clutching Sally's arm, as if they were two schoolgirls parading across the schoolyard. Sometimes that's how Sally felt, depending on how her mood was wavering. One second she was calm and confident and sure of what she was doing, and the next she felt small and powerless and was pretty sure she should run.

"Don't worry May, remember? We left a note for him, and there are sandwiches and Kool-Aid and cookies in the fridge for him."

May nodded, as if that made everything okay and she smiled fondly, remembering her son.

"He should be back from the river soon."

Sally got a chill. That could just as easily have been her fate, what May was currently living. If Percy wasn't as honest with her as he was, she could one day be waiting years for her child to come back home.

Driving to Connecticut and finding May hadn't been very easy, but Sally had managed to coax the information and a promise of silence out of Nico last time he'd had a fight with Hazel and hadn't wanted anything to do with either demigod Camp. Then she'd had to talk May into driving to New York, explain and get through to her about what was going on, and make her believe and remember it. She'd refused to drag Paul or Percy into this (the later knew nothing, as a matter of fact). This was a business of mothers and justice, and so she'd do it on her won with May.

Will soon appeared followed by a squad of satyrs, Mr D, and a bunch of curious campers who were whispering to each other. She honestly hoped Percy was somewhere in the canoe lake with Annabeth, where he couldn't be summoned from- which was the first time she thought that.

"Sally Jackson," he said. "A mortal. Peter's mother."

"Percy's mother."

"What do you want? And why is she back?" Mr D asked, nudging his head at May as if she wasn't actually there.

"You're the god of madness," Sally said. "And you're a god who's left mortal women before. Don't lie My Lord."

"Well, thank you for keeping me informed of my life and if that's all-"

"Sally we should be going." May said tugging on Sally's jacket sleeve. "This isn't a place for us.

"Yes, you really should. Maybe she's not the mad one after all."

"Please, heal her." Sally said.

Mr D's nose crinkled. "You ask this of me?"

"I'm asking, and I'm trying to ask very politely." Sally nodded. "I know the myths. I know you heal madness. You've done it before when you've felt mercy."

"Myths, myths, myths," Mr D said annoyingly.

"Her only son is dead, she doesn't know, she might never know, and even if someone told her she still wouldn't know."

"Sally," May said more insistently. "It's a long drive back to Connecticut, we really should hit the road."

"She's waiting for him but she doesn't know she's been waiting more than ten years and she'll wait for ten or twenty or thirty more depending on how long she lives. Does that not make you feel mercy, Dionysus?" Sally asked.

He looked at her, purple eyes flaring. Sally swallowed nervously, but she made herself stay strong. She wasn't going to be bullied by another lazy and sleazy alcoholic.

"You are arrogant to ask this." Mr D criticized. That was very close to 'I will incinerate you now'.

"Not at all," Sally said. "I'm asking, simply."

It wasn't working, it wasn't working... She changed her tactic quickly.

"And before you turn me into a spider monkey or whatever your preference is, let me remind you that although nothing is going on, May and I were once loved by two quite powerful gods who are to this day higher on the scale of power than you are, and at least I have a son in camp right now. We are not two women whose deaths you want to be accountable for, mark my words."

Mr D's features relaxed, but he didn't look happy about it.

"And what do I get in exchange for my service?"

"Respect," Sally said. "From any demigod's parent, from any camper who holds their mother or father or both to heart, from the gods who couldn't help themselves."

"Drinkers aren't big on respect. You should know out of all people." Mr D said. His purple eyes blazed, he was looking into Sally's memories and making the darkest ones act up. She could tell.

Sally blushed furiously and managed not to get flustered. "Yes but you're sober. I can tell, you should know."

Dionysus looked at Sally.

"You do realise what will happen to her? All the things she'll remember?"

"Sally, I trust you but I don't understand." May whispered to her.

"Yes. It's for the best." Sally said.

He paused for a few seconds longer.

"Come inside the borders, then." Mr D said. "And make her walk faster so you can get out of here faster too."


	6. Begging

**Hey guys. I'm having a crazy exam/provincial math test rush recently. Don't expect much of me in the next two weeks either. I'll do my best, but I'm warning you now: my math average needs to go up and that will only happen if analytic geometry allows itself to be grasped. Or if voodoo, you know. Also the 'horizontal line' function isn't working on my Doc Manager, so do excuse the format.**

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**Begging**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

"Well you're in pretty bad shape," said a voice Emily hadn't heard in a while. She sat up on her hospital bed, leaning onto her elbows.

"God of War?" She asked in a whisper. No freaking way he was here _now. _Talk about bad timing.

Oh shoot, that meant that Mars was _definitely _around.

He drew himself out of darkness, and leaned onto the foot of her hospital bed.

"The one and only," Mars said.

"Actually I can name ten off the top of my head." Emily said sitting up- or sitting up as best as she could. "Bellona, The Morrigan, Mixcoatl, Chi You, Guan Yu, Athena, Horus, Odin…"

"Still sassy, I see."

"Still alive, aren't I?" She asked.

Mars grinned. "Touché, Emily Zhang. How's Frank?"

"I haven't seen him in forever," she said chewing on her lip and letting her heart squeeze a little. She had a lot more to miss now that she had her son. "He's happy though, he can find a way to be happy most of the time, and he works hard. He's a sweetheart and a clown. He's just the best kid," Emily said. "Zhang House's reputation for legacies has kept the monsters away well enough, and I've managed to keep my mother's mouth shut about the gods, though he stumbled across a bow and a quiver and has been shooting targets ever since."

Mars' tongue clucked.

"He's doing well."

Mars nodded. "You, on the other hand…"

"Yeah, I'm not so sharp. What gave it away? The hospital? The bandages? Oh- I know the evacuation from Afghanistan to Germany." Emily said.

"Sass levels are high," Mars said. "They might even bring you back to Canada, from what I understand. Mind if I have a look?"

"Be my guest," Emily said pushing her covers off. "But if a nurse comes in, you disappear and I fake a morphine hallucination. Deal?"

Mars ignored her and unwrapped the bandages around her leg.

"So what the hell happened?"

"Oh, I pushed a guy out of the way and got hit by some shrapnel." Emily said. "Not fun. The doctors here… well; they say I might lose my leg." She took a deep breath, not okay with the idea.

Mars whistled. "They aren't kidding."

"That's not helpful," Emily hissed. He touched her injury and Emily slapped his hand away.

"Do that again and I'll kill you three times." She said.

"Hey, I'm a god. Even you can't accomplish that, Emily Zhang. Speaking of which; you could beg for help."

"Funny, funny man you are. No; I won't _beg. _I got hurt, I'll accept whatever I get from it. What do you think I am?" She asked.

"Captain Emily Zhang," Mars said examining her leg.

"For Jupiter's sake, the lights aren't even on." Emily whispered exasperated.

"I don't need lights," he said.

"Yeah I know, because you're a _freak." _

He looked up at her and she could tell he was grinning, even though she wasn't a goddess (story of her life) and couldn't see in the dark.

"Back to reality though, that leg… it doesn't look good."

"Oh," Emily said. She'd been hoping the x-rays and whatnot would say something different than what the doctors thought. "That's okay. People can still function with a prosthetic right? Walk around, live on their owns, run around, skate, serve…"

"If anyone could, it'd be you." Mars said. He wrapped up her bandage. "I'll see what I can do."

"About what?"

"Your leg."

"But I didn't beg."

"Exactly." Mars said. "Sweet dreams, Zhang."

"I'm not on enough pain meds to sleep through the-"

Emily never finished her sentence, and she never felt Mars' kiss on her forehead.


	7. Debt

**Hey folks, on a scale of one to Bellatrix Lestrange, guess how much I hate studying! Lots. So I polished this up for you guys because _dang, _it's about time Esperanza Valdez or Badass the III makes an appearance. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Debts **

**In the style of Esperanza Valdez**

A few hours after Esperanza had put baby Jonas in his crib and sat down at the kitchen table to catch up on her homework, Ana Garcia got home.

As she packed up her things, Esperanza chatted on about the night. The baby had been good, he was adorable, he hadn't been sick since she'd left, he was sound asleep, he had eaten a little pot of mashed carrots and he'd drank his milk, and lots of water to help with the bug he had... She was standing at the door, talking to Ms. Garcia who seemed exhausted by her long shift at the grocery store- where she'd worked for twenty years since she'd graduated from high school. Long and empty hours when it came to the money needed to raise a baby after your fiancé ran out with a young blonde white woman during the second trimester.

"He was fine, don't worry Miss Garcia," Esperanza promised, a hand on her bag, nodding.

"Thank you Esperanza, you're a life saver. Which reminds me- pay- I have a twenty somewhere…?" She said looking around her apartment eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, no money," Esperanza said shaking her hands.

"Yes, of course, don't be ridiculous, here." Miss Garcia said, finding a bill in her pocket and trying to hand it.

"Oh- sorry, can't," Esperanza said putting her hands in the air. "I don't have any pockets, can't take any money, sorry."

"Esperanza…" Miss Garcia sighed.

Hands up, still smiling, Esperanza backed away from Garcia's door quickly so she couldn't catch up.

**Eight years later**

Esperanza closed the door and leaned against it ASAP, lest her legs give out from under her. Holly smokes, her body hated her right now. For the non-parents reading the story; giving birth was a majorly traumatic experience that your body couldn't heal from in two weeks of unpaid mat leave. She was sore all over, exhausted because Leo had cried until dawn the night before…

Ana closed Leo's bedroom door behind her and smiled as she closed the door.

"Hello Anza, nice day at work?" She asked.

The movement of her eyebrows should've been enough to say it all entirely.

"I hope you had a better time here, and he wasn't being difficult." Esperanza said.

"No, no, no. He was fine, Anza. He has the best giggle and the funniest faces. He didn't eat anything, but I made sure he got lots of fluids."

"Thank you so much Ana, I thought I was going to have to take him to work," she said shaking her head. She grabbed for her wallet. "And I stopped by the bank…"

"No money," Ana said shaking her head and grabbing her purse.

"You've been with him since five o'clock," Esperanza protested.

"It's a shame," Ana said with a small smile. "But the problem is that I don't have any pockets."

Esperanza dropped her hands and smiled back at Ana in the kind of relief that couldn't be put into words.


	8. Conch

**Hey guys, I just had my first exam ever today. Unfortunately it won't be my last... Have a nice weekend, and I'm glad you liked the last chapter.**

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**Conch **

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson**

She sat on the beach with a book inches from her nose, Percy playing in the shallow water. She was totally immersed in a book in a way that she could never manage to at home with Gabe around, and she was paying minimal attention to her son. She figured that if there was one place where she didn't have to watch him like a hawk, it'd be in the ocean. Poseidon could handle that.

"Mommy, Mommy!" She heard.

But when duty called…

She closed her book and put it down, meeting Percy halfway up his sprint up the beach. He was running to her, with swimming trunks dripping on the sand and a huge, spirally seashell in his hands.

"Wow, did you find a conch?" Sally asked the six year old.

Percy nodded with wide, bright eyes. He put it to his ear.

"I can hear the ocean Mommy, you try!" He said.

She bent down and pushed her hair behind her ear. He pressed the shell against her ear.

_Hello Sal. _She heard.

She stood up straight, spooked.

Percy looked at her with bright eyes.

"Wow," she said forcing a smile on her face. "Pretty cool, eh?"

"Can I keep it?" Percy asked.

"Umm- sure, sweetheart. Okay." Sally said nodding. "Here, I'll take it back to the towels with me and you can play some more, how's that?"

Well, it wasn't like she'd ever had a _normal _trip to the beach.


	9. Duty Calls

**Duty Calls**

**In the style of Mars, Emily and Frank Zhang**

She packed a book between a sweatshirt and her baby blanket –something that Mother always insisted she bring overseas with her. _The Art of War (_the copy her father had given to her when she was little, with his footnotes to which she'd added) was the book.

"I will not say that I am glad to see you go again, Emily." She heard.

She turned around and saw Mother leaning in her room's door frame.

"Oh, you'll be fine." Emily said. "I know that it's technically my job to watch the house and work the bills and so forth, but I promise it'll be okay Mother so you mustn't-"

"That is not what I meant," her mother said bitterly. "I worry about you."

"You shouldn't," Emily said.

"When your father and I trained you with the family gift and in ancient warfare it was not to have you going off and joining the military."

"No," Emily said. "But it's what I did."

"Yes, I know." Mother said bitterly. "And I don't understand why. You are thousands of miles away from your sports, your home, your friends, and your family working a difficult, demanding and dangerous job."

"Well," Emily said pulling the bag's zipper. "Duty calls."

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no." Emily said. "Definitely not- why are you even here- why did you even come?"

"They're not going to be around forever," Mars said. "That Cyclops encampment? It would be _gold _to raid it."

"Yeah, I didn't say that it wouldn't be fun," Emily said shaking her head at the god. "It sounds like a _lot _of fun, as a matter of fact. I just said no."

"You'd love it," Mars said, trying to coax her. Part of Emily thought that he just got lonely, hunting and fighting with the same gods over and over again after all these millennia. At least with her there was the element of surprise because she was mortal and prone to change and improvement, and his fascination with the family gift seemed as bottomless as the Underworld and human stupidity. She was flattered that he came to her, and happy that their relationship hadn't ended cold turkey, but she'd already made her call on this one.

"I didn't say that I didn't want to go, I said that I couldn't." She replied.

"Why not?" Mars said. His tone was worried and protective. "Did you get hurt?"

"No," Emily said. "I'm fine."

"Mommy!" She heard him call from inside. "I can't find my ball!"

Emily shrugged.

"Duty calls." She said. Over her shoulder she yelled; "I'm coming to help you look sweetheart, juts hang on a second!"


	10. Jar

**Okay guys I have two exams today so I need reviews to cheer me up when I get home bone-tired. Ergo I'm exploiting you guys with a chapter I hope you'll enjoy. It's a bit more fleshed out and conceptualized than the others have been.**

**Disclaimer: I don't down Rachel**

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**The Jar**

**In the style of Danny and Rachel Elizabeth Dare**

* * *

**Age 5**

"Hey Dad," Rachel said having managed to sneak into his office. She really wanted a pony. She'd been thinking about it for a long time, and she thought that if she could find it a spot in a nice stable (like her book said) and name it Buttercup and go out and ride it a bunch of times a week it could work. "Do you think- well, would you mind if I…"

"Look in the top drawer of the writing desk near my door, Rachel. There's a fifty dollar bill there for you and your mother, go have fun." He said, covering the speaker of his phone.

And so Rachel took it, and she put it in a jar once she found out that fifty dollar bills could not buy ponies.

* * *

**Age 7**

"Daddy!" Rachel said sneaking into the office. She was clutching her test, she's spelled every word correctly and gotten all of the multiplication tables right. Much better than her last test! Her teacher had been so proud she'd put a sticker in the top corner _and _had written 'good job Rachel!'

A bunch of grumpy looking guys in business coats turned around.

"Sweetie, not now." Dad said. The other men were looking at her Dad with scowls, so he got up and snuck away from them and to her.

He reached into his back pocket, took out his wallet and handed her a bill.

"Is this going to work until Daddy has a little more time? It will? Okay." He kissed her on the cheek, patted her on the head, and sent her off.

It wasn't exactly what she'd been expecting. She'd even spelled 'quadrilateral' right.

She put the bill in a jar.

* * *

**Age 11**

"Dad," Rachel said. "Micah's hosting a…"

"My wallet's in my coat, Rachel." He groaned not looking up from his paperwork. "There's a fifty with your name on it, you can get whatever you need and we'll discuss details later, yes? Yes, goodbye sweetheart, Daddy's busy."

Rachel pouted, though he didn't see. And she pouted until she got back home and put the bill in a jar.

* * *

**Age 13**

"Dad, I'm running low on acrylic and I gave my allowance to the carollers who were around yesterday so…"

"Rachel, can't you see I'm busy?" He said pointing to the laptop where he was having a conference. "Just… There's fifty dollars in my coat pocket for whatever it is you need."

Rachel took a deep breath, forcing herself not to kill him, and took a bill.

* * *

**Age 15**

She walked in on him in the morning, as he was getting ready in his room. The door had been wide open, and Rachel had been waiting for a chance to ask.

"Dad, Percy and I…"

"The boy?"

"Well of course Percy's a boy, who names their girl Percy?"

"Well his parents weren't married…"

"Dad!"

"Okay, okay- Percy and you wanted to do something- that's perfect sweetheart," he said tying his tie. "Sounds like fun. There are a bunch of twenties in the top drawer of my dresser, you can take a few from there."

* * *

**Age 16**

"Happy birthday, sweetheart." Dad said handing her a card. She was hoping that whatever present was attached to it was hidden somewhere else- maybe she had a scavenger hunt?

She ripped open the envelope. The card was your standard card, found under 'Daughter's birthday' at any pharmacy. When she opened it to see the message and check for a signature, a fifty dollar bill fell out.

"Thanks Dad," Rachel said knowing right there that the gift wasn't getting any more personal. "I love it."

* * *

**Age 17**

"Dad, I think that this summer I should head to camp a bit earli-"

"Smart idea love," he said hastily passing through the kitchen, just grabbing the cup of coffee she'd put on the breakfast nook for him. "Here's a fifty, you can book yourself a… whatever it is you use to get there."

* * *

**Age 18**

"So, have you gotten back to the people at Harvard?" Dad asked her over dinner. "That's a very generous scholarship they're offering you. Law is a growing industry, you know."

"Actually Dad, I already accepted a scholarship," Rachel said taking a sip of Perrier.

"Really?" Mom asked. "Oh sweetheart, that's wonderful! Why didn't you tell us?"

"Which school did you take above Harvard?" Dad frowned. "I graduated from Harvard, it's a fine place."

"New York U," Rachel said casually. "The department of Art."

Her dad choked on his drink. "You're going to _art school?"_

"That's generally what happens to students attending classes in the department of arts, yes." Rachel said.

"What?!" Her Dad roared. "No, no, no- I will not stand for this. I will not pay for classes on how to make pretty pictures and waste paper and ink."

"Actually Dad," Rachel said reaching under her chair. "You did."

She slapped her jar of fifties onto the kitchen table.


	11. Questions

**My exams went really well, I'm happy that I just posted my first chapter with double digits this morning, and your reviews were all very sweet. Indulge once more :P**

* * *

**Questions**

**In the style of Sally Jackson and Poseidon**

* * *

"Okay," Sally said cracking a sunflower seed between her teeth. "My turn to ask a question."

Since she'd been overflowing with questions after finding out Poseidon was a god, he'd teased her by saying that there should be an equal proportion of questions asked by him as of questions asked by her. Now, it was their game, asking each other questions. Hers tended to be actual things on her mind. He'd spring up with the most random 'would you rather' dares and make her laugh.

"Alright," he said leaning back on his elbows, looking at the sunset.

"What is your favourite beach in the world?" Sally asked.

"Oh… owe… do you know what kind of undersea politics you're stirring up?" He said. Sally didn't change her question, she just looked at him expectantly. "Alright. Well, right now I'm a pretty big fan of Montauk."

"Stop it," she said blushing.

"Fine, fine. For real, I think it'd have to be in Greece. Most of them. They're so blue, still so useful to the people there. It's the first beach I ever saw."

"Okay, I buy it." Sally said.

"My turn then," Poseidon said helping himself to a handful of sunflower seeds. "Why do you read and write so much?"

"Me?" Sally asked.

"Well, there are only two of us playing…"

"Oh ha, ha." Sally said. She leaned back too, and took a deep breath. "I think… I think that it's because in books… in books the real world isn't real and that's something I'd really appreciate. I mean, to be honest, the real world _sucks. _But in books nobody works their butt off their whole life, gets a scholarship, gives it up for their sick but negligent uncle, and are left alone and empty-handed after he dies. And if they do, they get a happily ever after because of some twist of fate."

"You don't think you'll get a happily ever after?" Poseidon asked.

"I'm not exactly on the road to success, now am I?" Sally said.

"Well I don't know," Poseidon said. "I think there's more than one road. Maybe you're on the detour."

"I think I'm in the ditch."

"Sally Jackson," Poseidon said strictly. "If you like story worlds so much, then you'll notice that the villains are never the ones who get happily-ever-afters. That's because in every single world there is, people get what they deserve one way or another at some point of their lives. So your day is coming any time now."

Sally looked at the ocean. She was having a pretty awesome time at Montauk. Sure, she'd just blown some cash she hadn't had to blow on her fair share of the little cottage's rent which was divided among her friends, and she wasn't working or studying. But she was unwinding after the year from hell and that was just as important, wasn't it? And then she'd met Poseidon and she'd stopped torturing herself over what kind of schizophrenic or psychopath she might be and… well, it was Poseidon after all.

"What if mine is right now?" She said.

"Well I'd feel sorry for you that the best you get is me."

"Oh, come off it." She said.

"I'm not kidding, Sally. I'm not. I think that right now, you're on a rollercoaster that only goes up."


	12. Weakness

**So I accidentally used an Augustus Watters quote to finish up the last chapter and I'm so horribly sorry for stirring up dormant The Fault in Our Stars/EVERYTHING feels that I'm giving you guys another chapter. Also this one is T for violence and torture. **

**Disclaimer: Me no own Emily and Mars. **

* * *

**Weakness**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

She cringed and braced herself for the impact. When the whip smacked her cheek it still felt as bad as if she hadn't.

Finally she broke and whimpered in pain.

"Emily Zhang it doesn't have to be this way," the captor said. Someone caressed her cheek. She would've turned around to bite the hand, but she was exhausted. Trying to transform into an animal while in the celestial bronze chains was fruitless and draining. "You're such a pretty young thing… I wouldn't want to shed _your _kind of blood…"

The caress turned into a powerful slap.

"But that's going to have to take some of your cooperation, so tell me right now. What is the god of war's weakness?"

"I don't know," Emily said as calmly and neutrally as she could manage.

"Liar!"

The hot iron was pushed into her hip once again, burning away the fabric of her flannel shirt. Tears of pain were clouding up her eyes but right then Emily couldn't care. She'd practically walked into the trap, after all. She'd been so keen on finishing off the hellhounds who'd attacked the Zhang house… The only thing that mattered now was that she kept her silence and her honour.

"Ooh," the Empoussa questioning her said. "It's starting to hurt now, isn't it? Poor little Emily Zhang: legacy of Neptune, the last of the Zhang line, bearer of the blood of Periclymenus."

"Thanks man, I needed that refresher," Emily said. "For a second there I thought my name was Wendy Chang."

She got poked again and she nearly screamed.

"Tell me what his weakness is."

"I don't know!" Emily said.

The hot iron poker moved up her body and rested right above her heart.

"Tell me…"

"I don't know, I can't say anything." Emily said fighting to keep the growing panic out of her voice. "I literally cannot."

The poker was pushed lightly. The heat gave her goosebumps.

"Emily Zhang…"

That's when she heard a sound strangely like a door being kicked down.

"Look down!" Someone yelled. It wasn't hard for Emily to drop her head and close her eyes. Even with her eyelids shut, Emily saw a bright light invading the room. Waves of heat hit her. It was as if a bomb had gone off.

The shackles on her ankles were unlocked. Out of instinct Emily flailed around.

"Stop it, Zhang you're going to kick me." Once she recognised the voice she realised that she probably didn't want to do that.

Her hands were released and her aching arms were free. She fell, but landed in someone's arms.

"Shh," he said. She was being lied down. She forced her eyelids open.

"How hurt are you?" God of War said unbuttoning her shirt to gauge how much blood had soaked her tank top.

"I don't know," she said.

"And you can't have ambrosia, can you? You're so damn inconvenient."

"Yeah, someone should just totally have me dangling from their creepy lair's ceiling and beat me up."

He put his hands over her hips, her stomach, her arms, her legs… At first the healing heat was crippling and she wanted to scream and slap Mars away. But slowly she felt better.

"How long have you even _been _here?" Mars asked.

"I don't know."

"Think," he ordered.

"I guess… I fought her for about fifteen minutes. Then I nearly had her and her backup showed up. Then she tortured me for… two hours? Does that make sense?"

"You usually leave work at five, so I guess it does." the God of War said. "I can't believe you lasted that long."

"Aren't I full of surprises?" Emily mumbled.

"Sure are, Zhang." Mars said kissing her forehead. She felt a little better knowing that at least she wasn't fighting alone now if they came back.

"I can stand," Emily decided.

"No you can't."

"You're either with me or against me there, bud." Emily said managing to push herself up though her arms were too painful to feel anything. He helped her get up and she propped herself against the wall for a while, giving some recovery time to her legs before she tried something stupid or eccentric. Like walking.

"What did they want from you?" Mars asked once she let go of the wall. Having shape-shifted all her life, Emily's body had adapted to changing very fast. Luckily that spread to healing. She felt better already- a little tired and a little sore, but okay.

"They wanted to know your weakness," Emily said. "Looks like there's someone out to get you."

"What did you tell them?" Mars said.

"Nothing. I didn't know." Emily said. Well, Emily knew that he was left handed and that he couldn't protect his legs for the life of him while wrestling. But she hadn't thought that that was what they were looking for, and she wasn't even willing to say that much.

Mars nodded and motioned for her to follow him out. He turned around after a few steps.

"Next time you can tell them you," Mars said.

Emily didn't reply.

He nodded grimly, a little to himself. "You are my weakness, Emily Zhang. So don't you ever get captured and tortured and hurt again, because I was scared."

"I was pretty scared too," she said walking up to him and putting her arm around his waist. She tried to make him laugh, but she wanted him to know how much that meant to her. How deeply that struck. How she knew how much he meant by that. Maybe that was why she was trying to make him laugh too; she was a bit scared.

"If you keep being this sassy I _will _leave you here though."


	13. Innocence

**Hi! So I'm writing a Leo Valdez multichapter story called Houdini. The first chapter was put up yesterday for those interested. For those not interested, here's another chapter- and the first with this particular child/parent duo.**

* * *

**Innocence**

**In the style of Frederic and Annabeth Chase**

"And with a great big thud, the cage bars blew away!" Frederic said. "And Daedalus and Icarus flew out of Midas' prison, leaving the evil villain behind."

Annabeth's face was mesmerised by the story.

"So after that Daedalus and his son found a new home?" Annabeth asked before Frederic could finish the story.

Actually Icarus disobeyed his father, flew too close to the sun, melted the wax that was holding his wings together, and plummeted to his death, drowning in the sea unless he died on impact.

"Yes," Frederic told his daughter. Her bright eyes glittered even more brightly and her smile brightened. She was missing three teeth. That was the kind of face you could lie to if it meant keeping it that way.

"Good!" She said. "Yeay! And they lived happily ever after?"

"Of course." Frederic nodded.

She didn't need to know all of the things that would stop her eyes from glittering just yet. Later, he promised, but not yet.

* * *

"And so after he tamed Pegasus and killed the Chimaera, Bellerophon just flew up to Olympus?" Annabeth asked, her habit of finishing stories before she heard the ending kicking in once again. "And then the gods had a party or something."

_Actually they were all really kind of insulted, so they sent a bee to sting Pegasus so that Bellerophon would get butted off and he'd fall down. He lived his life blind, crippled and miserable._

Annabeth was hugging her knees and swinging back and forth in her pajamas Her blond curls were combed as best as they could both manage to comb them and her grey eyes were interested, bright and hopeful.

"Yes," Frederic said. "And, umm, they even put him in the stars, as a constellation." She had learned that word last Saturday.

"Where in the stars, daddy?" Annabeth asked.

"Well, let's go put your coat on go look in the sky. I'll show you Pegasus." Frederic said.

* * *

"And with one strong swing of his sword, as powerful as a galloping horse, Theseus cut off the Minotaur's head!" Frederic said.

Annabeth looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathed, her eyes full of admiration. Maybe it was in her blood. Maybe one day Annabeth would behead a monster with a swipe of a sword. Oh dear God- no, he couldn't think about that just yet.

"Pretty cool, eh? But after Theseus defeated the Minotaur, he still had to escape the labyrinth."

"So he used Ariadne's string!" Annabeth cried. "I understand!"

"Very good, you clever little girl." He said tapping her nose.

"So Ariadne and Theseus got married once he got out of the labyrinth, right?"

Eh… not exactly.

Ariadne ran away with the Athenian and while they were at sea he abandoned her on a dessert island, where she may or may not have been pregnant. Also there was the no-black-sails thing that led to his father's suicide…

"Yes," Frederic smiled. "All of the gods showed at the ceremony, and showered the happy couple with gifts."

"And they all lived happily ever after," Annabeth concluded, nodding.

"Exactly," Frederic said.

* * *

_"And that's when Bellerophon got in the stars," Annabeth said, cutting into her sister Scarlett's story._

_"What?" Edmund asked kindly._

_"Well," Annabeth said. "The story finishes that when Bellerophon rides up to Olympus on Pegasus, the gods are so proud of him that they put him in the stars."_

_ The children of Athena all looked at each other._

_"No, sweetheart, that's not exactly what happened. You don't understand."_

_"Yes I do!" Annabeth cried._

_"Sweetheart, the gods were _mad _that Bellerophon tried to ride up to Olympus. They were mad that he tried to make himself as important as a god. They sent a bee to sting Pegasus so he toppled off. You might have heard one of the quack versions of the myth."_

Annabeth thought about that as she tapped her crayon to her notepad, thinking of what was right to put in a letter to her father.

For the longest time she'd been angry at him for that reason on top of all the other ones. He'd lied to her about myths- that was like telling a kid that her great-grandmother was Madonna and that America had been colonised by Martians. That was her _heritage _that he'd tinkered and distorted.

But now… Well, she'd just been on a quest. The real world was hard, and not everyone could handle it. Like Luke had never been able to handle his quest, but Percy looked okay and relaxed and cool about his. Maybe… Maybe her father had told her the softened versions of myths on purpose. Because when she was a child she was still soft and she liked her stories to have Walt Disney endings, not to be Greek tragedies. He had wanted to share her heritage with her without breaking or hurting her. He'd been protecting her innocence by keeping murder and rape and gore out of her ears.

Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all. Maybe she should be thankful and touched, not angry. Maybe there were little reasons like that for everything- that he tried not to make a big deal out of the monsters even when she came home panicked, that he had tried to be so cautious and shy while explaining about the monsters to his wife and that the explanation hadn't worked... He had good intentions. He tried to make it work, but Annabeth had heard that an invention usually had seven prototypes before it succeeded. He'd been raising his first child -a demigod at that- alone.

Her letter was written and sent to him before she knew it.


	14. Names

**Guys, over the weekend I have been on _fire _and there are now thirty drabbles sitting there, waiting to be published! Now I'll also take requests because I need to learn to write within set perimeters- for school and such. So request away! Prompt words, _maybe _characters (though please remember that this is especially about the mortal parents)...**

* * *

**Names**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson**

"Mom, it's me." Percy called stepping into the apartment.

"I'm in the living room," she called. She heard him shuffling in the front door, taking off his coat and kicking off his winter boots. He was smiling when he popped into the living room.

"Hey," he said.

"Good evening, sweetheart." Sally said holding out her arms. He gave her a hug before sitting down, his cheeks rosy with the cold.

"How are you?" She asked him, knowing that there was something going on if he'd crossed the cold, busy holiday-time New York City to see her on a Friday night, leaving Annabeth home alone.

"I'm okay," he said.

"And Annabeth?" She inquired.

"She's okay." Percy said. "Tired and grumpy about something that happened at work, but okay."

"It's not easy being pregnant Percy; don't be too hard on her."

"I know, I'm not," Percy said. "It's just…"

"What was the fight about?" Sally asked with a sigh. Percy frowned, incredulous. "Sweetheart, you've been going out with her for ages and you've known her for even longer. I can tell, by this point. I think the _doorman _can tell."

Percy crossed his arms over his stomach.

"She doesn't want to pick out a name."

"What?" Sally frowned.

"She wants me to do it," Percy shrugged. "I think she feels bad about having asked for 'Luke' or 'Lucy' to be a middle name. I told her not to, but you know Annabeth."

"Okay," Sally said.

"The thing is, I have no clue whatsoever. But I think it's really important that the name fits."

Sally closed the book she'd been reading and slid it onto the coffee table. "What would give you that idea?"

"Well, names are important," Percy shrugged. "You named me Perseus because you wanted me to have a happily-ever-after despite everything. I survived two wars, married my high school sweetheart and we're about to have a baby. I'm getting that picture perfect finish. It just... karma and stuff."

"Okay," Sally said still unsure. "Well, I wanted you to survive as a demigod. What do you want for your son or daughter?"

Some things would never feel casual saying, and one of them was 'your son or daughter' to her own son. Percy was going to be a father. It was blue waffles and passing seventh grade all over again; little miracles.

Percy starred at his hands.

"Should I have given this much thought before?" Percy asked, looking concerned.

Sally smiled.

"Not necessarily," she said soothingly. He was a bundle of nerves on legs recently. "Just think now, Percy."

He starred at his hands.

"I want her to be safe," Percy said. "And I want her to feel safe and comfortable and happy- and loved. Yeah- safe and happy and loved." He looked up like 'is this right?' "But her name doesn't have to mean loved. We'll love her anyways."

"Alright," Sally said reaching out for the iPad –her birthday present from Paul. "I'll look up happy."

"Let's see. In English there's Caroline, and Edith –no, never mind, Edith is happy warfare. Felicity, Glad, Letitia, Lesha… In French you've got Carole, Carolina, Felicia. Nara in Gaelic, Agalia and Chara in Greek, Luana in Hawaiian. Aida and Allegra in Italian, Beatrice, Felicity, Hilary and Joy in Latin."

Percy's face wasn't impressed.

"We can look up something else," Sally said. "You talked about 'loved'."

"Yeah, that sounds good." Percy nodded.

Amy, Charity, Cherise, Darlene and its million variations, Davine, Mandy, Aimee, Minna, Theophilia, Vida, Vidette, Cara, Carina, Venus, Shahnza, Mila, Asta, Freya, Amada, Carina- the list never ended, but nothing sounded good to him.

"Do you want something from the myths?" Sally asked.

"Nope, no myths. No myths until we _have _to." Percy said.

Sally smiled. "You know, there are some names that don't have anything bad associated to them. Or spin-off names. Like Helena or Elena instead of Helen. Or ways to hint at mythology- I bet Annabeth would love it if your daughter was named Olivia, for her mother and the olive tree. And Olivia Jackson sounds cute."

"Yeah, but that'll piss off dad."

"Someone is always going to be mad on Olympus, Percy." Sally said. "And I would be surprised if he cared."

They sat in the living room and looked things up and thought and anagrammed for hours and hours.

Percy decided that he should go home to Annabeth and that the letters were swimming around his vision irreversibly at around ten.

"Thanks mom, not everyone would've sat down for that long." Percy said hugging her on his way out.

"Oh, it's nothing." Sally said returning his squeeze. "I'd have sat down for three hours more if you'd have needed me to."

"Thanks mom, you're gold." Percy said kissing her on the cheek before heading back into the cold.

* * *

Sarah Lucy Jackson was born in February, on the 12th.

It wasn't a suggestion that Sally had ever heard of before, but she thought the name sounded cute and told Percy so. He told her that she'd given him the idea, and to look it up once she got home- which she did. So she found a site called Think Baby Names which told her this:

**Sally** \s(al)-ly\ as a girl's name is pronounced _SAL-ee_. It is of English origin. Variant of **Sarah** (Hebrew) "princess".


	15. Revenge

**So this one is a little different; rated T for language and a joke that can be taken wrongly. I like it a lot though.**

**Thank you for all the character suggestions, some of them have already been plotted out. Prompt words would be appreciated too.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own Esperanza Valdez.**

* * *

**XV**

**Revenge**

**In the style of Esperanza Valdez**

Following a fighter-robot victory, Esperanza and her team had gotten an all-expenses-paid trip to New York City to visit the campus there and sight-see like all the other hyperactive tourists. The plane had been late getting up in the air and Anza was exhausted, but she figured that she had to go see Miguel before going home and sleeping for a million hours.

She pulled up in his driveway and parked the beaten red pickup trick she was always either driving or fixing. She swung her legs out and stretched before going up to the door. She was used to letting herself into her boyfriend's house, so she didn't think twice about walking in. If he wasn't working a shift at the restaurant or wasn't otherwise occupied away from home, the door was unlocked.

It turned out that he was occupied.

On the couch.

With a girl.

A girl that wasn't Esperanza.

With a suction-cup sound he pulled away from his make-out buddy and looked up frowning, probably expecting a roommate, but saw her and his eyes sprawled.

"Anza…" He said smiling like he had a gum infection.

"I got back early," she said. "What have you been up to?" She said giving him her deluxe this-smile-means-run tight grin.

"Mig, who's that?" The girl asked. She was a perfectly okay brunette with a brain that was in the process of being tugged out of its shape, and confused grey eyes.

"Yeah Mig, who's that?" Esperanza said. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend? No? Okay."

Esperanza held out her hand.

"My name's Anza, I've been dating this douche since September."

The girl spun around on the couch looking at him.

"What?" She asked.

"Katherine, I can explain-"

"Yeah, that doesn't mean it's going to sound good," Katherine said. She got to her feet.

"Kate- this isn't what it looks like!"

"Don't 'Kate' me. Don't talk to me or call, actually." She said with fuming, fiery eyes.

Miguel turned to look at her with desperate eyes like he'd just realised that he'd just pissed off the two people he had as girlfriend options all in one day.

"I'll have what she's having," Esperanza said.

Katherine looked up to her.

"I don't drive." She said.

"I'll give you a ride."

* * *

Katherine smashed her head on the dashboard when she got into shotgun and groaned.

"Wow, I thought he'd changed since high school."

"If he was a backstabbing unreliable two-faced motherfucker in high school then no, he apparently hasn't." Esperanza said, turning the ignition.

"I'm really sorry," Katherine said sitting up and raising her hands. "I had no idea…"

"Don't sweat it," Esperanza said. She was more angry than anything else right now. She'd learned not to get sad over jerks and had perfected the art over many years of being the lone girl in a class of brutish and sexist engineers-to-be. Science was still majorly a man's world even though they were approaching the turn of the century. It's take more than Esperanza to change that. "I should have known it was bound to happen, he was pretty happy when I told him I'd be out of town. Anyways, where am I taking you?"

"Just drop me off at the Barnes and Noble on Holcombe, that would be great." Katherine said. "I can just read until my shift."

"Got it," she said driving off.

Katherine had obviously not adopted the don't-get-sad-over-assholes policy in her life. She hugged her knees and looked pretty upset.

"Hey _chica_," Esperanza said putting a hand on hers. "Don't get mad or upset or angry at him."

"Well what am I supposed to do?" Katherine asked.

"I don't know, get even." She replied. Esperanza's second most cherished policy.

"Revenge? Like… make him jealous." Katherine said.

"No, that's shallow and poor," she said dismissing it.

Esperanza's jaw dropped as she was hit with an idea that had the same sheer brilliance as the light bulb or sliced bread. She was _sure _that this was how Edison and Aristotle had felt. She turned to look at Katherine.

"How pissed are you?"

"Tons," Katherine promised, her eyes bugging.

"How motivated are you to get back at him?"

"A lot," Katherine said.

"How gutsy are you?"

Katherine squirmed in her seat.

"A bit."

"How well can you act?"

"I'm majoring in theater," she said.

"Excellent," Esperanza said.

* * *

She and Katherine pulled up in the restaurant parking lot a week later.

"Ready?" Esperanza asked.

"As I'll ever be," she said opening her door and getting out of the beaten up truck.

Katherine slipped a twenty to the bus boy to make sure they got a table in Miguel's section and they settled down. Until he got there, they held hands over the table trying not to laugh at each other. Then Miguel came and it wasn't fun and games anymore.

He froze at their table holding his pad and his pen and looking at them with wide eyes.

"Don't you have a script about being our waiter and getting us food to rattle out?" Esperanza asked. "Don't know about Katie, but I'm starved."

He looked devastated. They'd exchanged notes and plotted heavily before coming; Katherine never let _anyone _call her Katie and it hadn't gone over well when Miguel had tried.

"I…" Miguel closed his mouth. "I wasn't expecting to see you, Anza. Or you, Kate. Or you... both together."

They starred him down.

"Especially you two together I just…" Miguel looked at a loss for words.

"Well, we were both really upset last week," Katherine said putting on the most perfect tortured-soul puppy dog face Esperanza had ever seen. "We had to get a bit… creative, to cheer each other up."

Esperanza nearly lost it and blew the whole act. The teeth sunk in her upper lip would soon draw blood.

This evening was going to be gold. Miguel looked nervous and just jotted down their orders for drinks, looking about as uncomfortable as a man could get. He brought them and mumbled something about giving them a few more minutes to order.

When he walked away, Esperanza leaned towards Katherine.

"Pro tip sweetheart, if you want to get even with an ex, don't try to make him jealous with another man. Show up with another woman."

"I like you," Katherine said. She raised her glass. "Cheers to getting both mad _and _even."


	16. Synonyms

**Hi! Okay, I promise I won't have another T chapter for language. I just have this headcannon that Esperanza swore like a sailor before she had Leo, so it had to come out at least once to make me happy :) That is all, enjoy this. **

**Keep submitting prompt words, I'm running out guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters shown below. **

* * *

**XVI**

**Synonyms**

**In the style of Frederic and Annabeth Chase**

Annabeth's eyebrows were furrowed as she fought through her fear to explain to Frederic what had happened in her dream.

"Oh, don't be scared sweetheart." He said putting his arms around her and bringing her close. "There's no evil scientist who would ever do that to you. That dream is just your imagination."

Annabeth was burrowed against his chest and snuggle in his arms, the only place where she'd believe such a thing.

"Daddy, what's another word for imaginary?"

"Chimerical." Dr Chase answered.

"Like the chimera monster?" She asked.

"Exactly like that, yes. You'd call that the root of the word."

"But that's wrong." Annabeth said.

"How so?"

"Chimeras are real," Annabeth said simply. "Not imaginary."

Frederic swallowed.

First off he was terrified. _What? _He knew that the... the _monsters_ were out there, and he knew that one day they'd come looking for her. He may not have gotten a how-to parenting book for a little girl, but he knew as much about half-bloods as he could according to Athena, though the goddess was vague and selective in the information she shared more often than not. But at the age of five? No. That was too young. He didn't like it. He didn't _want _it, more precisely.

He calmed himself down by dismissing it for now. He was in front of her now. He had to react or she'd get suspicious.

His second problem was this. Could he really tell Annabeth that they weren't real? Give her fake ideas? Teach her not to believe herself and what she saw and felt and thought? Stop her from seeing her world? It was her heritage and a reality she'd face whether he wanted her to or not.

"Yes, but they're not real to everyone. And they're a secret, okay sweetheart? You can't tell anyone but me when you see one, but you _always _have to tell me, understand?"

"Okay."

"It's really important that you remember that." Frederic said tilting up her chin so her grey eyes met his.

"Okay." Annabeth nodded with a smile. "What's another word for okay?"

"Alright," Frederic said.

"What's another word for nervous?"

She was way too perspicacious.

"Agitated," he said.

"And another?"

"Anxious."

"More?"

"Fearful."

"What's a word for not-fearful?"

"Brave."

"Another?"

"Courageous."

His nerves calming down as the game went forth.


	17. Pass the Peas

**Hi! Thank you for the 200 reviews this story has! I'm just really happy that so many of you like this story, so here's a chapter to thank you.**

**Thank you to Wonderstruck Pen for the first prompt word ever. **

**It's a bit dramatic, which just always seems to be the case when I write about Esperanza... The chapters after these with her in it are a bit more tame, so don't worry. I'm not sure if I like this, but here you go. Also note that I don't speak Spanish, so if I get anything wrong correct me right away and I'll change it. If anyone would like to be a resource person for Spanish, PM me too :) **

* * *

**Pass the Peas **

**In the style of Esperanza Valdez**

The sound of clinking cutlery was the only thing sparing the dinner table from being _completely _uncomfortable. Esperanza barely touched her food, she felt sick even though it was evening.

"This is fantastic, Mom." Rosa said.

"Thank you dearest," Mom said. "I'm very glad we're all here, that Esperanza and _abuelo _are feeling better and well enough to join us."

_Abuelo _grinned crookedly from his seat next to her. There was a bug passing around the workshop. Though Sammy was too old and battered up to work there anymore he spent all of his time supervising and hanging out in the workshop, ergo why he'd had the flu all week.

Esperanza was glad that he was better too. Thanksgiving wouldn't have felt right if it wasn't at _Abuelo's _house.

"Did you have the flu too, Esperanza? I told you that workshop is a nasty place for you to be," Mom said waving her fork at her.

"She's right Anza," Aunt Isabella said.

"Nonsense, leave her alone." _Abuelo _said, rising to defend Anza like he always did.

Her family was conservative, too pious and too traditional. There were a variety of reasons why- notably the mothers being that way. Out of the three generations before her that had lived in America –let it be New Orleans or Houston-, Esperanza was the first woman ever to go to university.

"Anza here is more efficient than all of us combined," Uncle Emilio said.

"She's allowed to do what she likes," Uncle David who rarely talked because he only spoke English brought up. Her cousin Sebastian fluffed her hair and she elbowed him to tell him to back off, which made Samuel, Diego and Dylan laugh. The aforementioned six men all worked at the family workshop, and they were Esperanza's favourite people- particularly for conversations like this.

"That doesn't mean anything, I agree with Isabella and Fernanda." Aunt Agustina said.

Esperanza _so _wasn't in the mood for this.

"To avoid a conversation I've had a million times with all of you about my career; no, I didn't catch the flu that's going around the workshop." Esperanza said pulling the subject away. She didn't even work there half of the time anyways. She was either too busy working at the restaurant, whose owner she still owed university money to, or looking for another job. She loved Sammy's workshop, nobody should think otherwise, but it'd feel _really _good to have gotten the mechanical engineering degree for a reason- for a bigger job, a bigger innovation, and something a little more important than fixing cars.

"It's that restaurant you work at," _Abuela_ –Sammy's snappy ex-wife that was an ex for hell of a good reason- said. "Their food is poisoned. It isn't natural."

"It's not that," Esperanza said but she was getting grumpy and irritated and even a bit scared. They were pushing more and more and even if the women in her family were about as stupid as a bag of bricks when their intelligence was collective and they thought they were living in the dark ages, but they weren't blunt. They'd figure it out sooner or later and when that happened…

Thankfully one of her cousins, she didn't see which, had her back and so the conversation shifted to something else. The second it did Esperanza wondered if she should have said something. It was Thanksgiving, everyone was eating turkey which made her family lazy and relaxed, Mom wouldn't smack the life out of her in front of people, tomorrow was a bank holiday so everyone who took it onto themselves to be pissed would have time to blow off some steam…

She let it go for a while and just played with the food in her plate that wasn't appetizing.

"Esperanza, you should try the peas." Aunt Fernanda said. "I found a new recipe."

She hadn't been aware that there had been different recipes on how to cook peas. She thought that they were more like a one-way-only type of food, like scrambled eggs or something. Oh gods, that's what she wanted right now- scrambled eggs. With onions cooked into it. Not turkey, this turkey was disgusting. For a proud and determined stay-at-home mom her mother couldn't cook for a million dollars.

"Aunt Isabella," Esperanza called. "Pass the peas and also I'm pregnant."

It kind of just came out.

The anticipated effect washed over the tables, accompanied with dives into Spanish and chocking on various Thanksgiving dishes.

"¿Qué pasa?"

"What?"

"Esperanza!"

_"¡Cómo! No puede ser!"_

She sat back and waited for her relatives to stop freaking out and turn back to her for information. She felt like she was going to throw up again, but now it was just nerves.

"Esperanza," her mother said sternly. _"¿Cómo?"_

"I'm pregnant, mom." Esperanza sighed sticking to English for Uncle David's sake.

"Esperanza!" Her mother roared. "How could you?"

One of her aunts muttered something about bastards and weddings.

_Yeah, that's not happening, _she thought.

"How could I?" Esperanza said. "What do you mean 'how could I', it's not like I did you wrong."

"We're a family, Esperanza." Aunt Fernanda said. "We're all in this together."

_Not if this is what the rest of my life is going to be like, we're not._ Esperanza thought.

Mom shook her head. "Your father and I have raised you better than this."

"Will you stop freaking out? I realise that this wasn't intelligent, but maybe I don't think that children born outside of wedlock are reincarnations of the world's evils, and maybe I've thought this through." Esperanza snapped.

"You don't mean… no, no, no… you can't have this baby," _Abuela _said to herself. "That's just…"

Esperanza wanted to snap. She counted to ten in her head. Then she started counting to thirty one million because that was more like it at the speed her aunt's mouths were going, continuing their rants and only pausing to agree with each other.

"Esperanza it isn't right." _Abuela _said. She shuttered and started praying, asking forgiveness and for God's mercy on Esperanza's soul.

"You're going to have a baby," Rosa said dumbfound.

"Yes, congratulations, you're going to be an aunt, I think we've all understood that, settle down…" Uncle David said nervously. His plea fell on deaf ears, though Esperanza blessed him for trying.

"Anza, think about what you're saying…"

"I have. Think about what you're saying."

"We don't even know the man!"

"Well I do," Esperanza said. She didn't see a problem past that.

"Yes we can _see _that." Rosa said.

"At least you do," Aunt Fernanda mumbled.

"We know him," Uncle Emilio said. "The guy who drops by the workshop every once in a while and helps out, right? He's a good man.

"I knew something was going on." Diego said.

"That's a twenty in my pocket, Samuel." Dylan called out, successful.

"This doesn't concern you," Emilio's wife Isabella said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"It actually doesn't concern any of you." Esperanza said slapping the table, finally losing it. "It really doesn't. I'm only telling you because you're my family, and because I thought you'd care about more than yourselves."

"My daughter's a _whore." _Mom spat out again getting to her feet, towering over Anza. "You are no daughter of mine. I am not your family."

Esperanza felt like she'd just gotten slapped on the cheek.

That was when Samuel, who lived with _Abuelo _to make sure he didn't get hurt going down stairs or trying to drive, got up and said something in Spanish that she didn't quite catch. All of the women and her cousin Dylan got up and left. Esperanza heard offended Spanish chitchatting, more praying, and then the front door slamming.

She closed her eyes and tried not to show how upsetting that had just been.

Sammy spoke up. "I still don't understand the link between you being pregnant and peas."

Esperanza laughed a bit, because Sammy had the gift of making people laugh when things were rotten, and it sounded a little choked but it was still laughing. In a twisted turn of events, her uncles, most of her cousins, and her _Abuelo _around the table with her. She hadn't expected that. She had expected to feel like a fish out of water in the workshop for the first time in her life. Since she was a little girl she'd been the only girl in the shop, and she'd always managed to fit in anyways. Would a gross reminder of her gender blow it? She'd expected the worst reaction to be from them and the bad reaction to be from the aunts and sister and mother who'd just walked out.

But maybe this was what was meant to happen. Sammy's Workshop was a family business. Even Uncle David who couldn't speak Spanish and Dylan who went cross-eyed and Sebastian who hadn't graduated from high school were family in that workshop. Surely even Anza could fit in _there. _

She rested her head on the latter's shoulder and he kissed her hair.

"Do people say congratulations?" Emilio asked in Spanish.

"I don't know," she said. "I… I honestly don't know. I don't even know how to talk about it."

"Hmm… pro-tip for next time, not like that," Diego said. "Though it was a valiant effort."

"I'd like to have seen you do it better bro," Samuel said. "I'd have done it on a holiday too, not that I've given this much thought."

"Can we just go ahead and say congratulations?" Emilio asked.

"If you like," she said softly.

"We'll get pizza for lunch and eat it for lunch," Sebastian cheered. "Cut it with the exact-o knives and heat up the leftovers with welders for supper."

"Don't worry Anza," Sammy said. "We'll fix the mess they've just made, we're still your family. Do you still want the peas?"


	18. Echoes

**Hi! I just finished drabble number 38 and hit 100 pages of Drabbles! Yeay! So here's a celebration chapter; one of my favourites so far, with a new character. Thanks to booklover89 for her help on this!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own characters.**

* * *

**Echoes**

**In the style of Grandmother Zhang**

_Exhibit A_

**Emily:**

A robin flew down the staircase, not as much as grazing the steps with its feet. At the foot of the stairs it froze and turned into a young girl with her hair cut up to her neck and a school blouse that should be tucked in her skirt but (obviously) wasn't.

"Emily Zhang for the love of the gods use the damned stairs!" Mei Zhang scolded.

**Frank:**

In about ten minutes the bus that led to John Oliver Secondary School would be stopping at the nearby stop, so naturally Frank was scrambling around to find his math books.

He ran up the stairs like a horse, and he was so fast and rushed it sounded like thunder.

"Frank Zhang!" Mei yelled. "For the love of all things good stop running or you'll break the stairs!"

* * *

_Exhibit B_

**Emily: **

Emily swung into the kitchen and opened the fridge door groggily. She reached into the door shelves and took out a carton of orange juice. She took off the cap and closed her fingers over it before gulping down some orange juice.

"Emily that's disgusting." She said.

"It's mildly unhygienic, relax Mother."

"Don't you sass me, young woman," Mei threatened.

"Kay mom," she said before taking another gulp.

**Frank:**

Frank looked at the open fridge for a full ten minutes before waking up again and reaching for the carton of orange juice, popping off the cap and drinking straight from it.

"Frank Zhang that is disgusting." She scolded. "You were not raised in a barn; I wouldn't have let your mother do that."

"I'm the only one who drinks orange juice." Frank said.

"Are you talking back to me Fai Zhang?"

"No Ma'am."

* * *

_Exhibit C_

**Emily: **

When she looked up from the vegetables she was chopping and out the window, he daughter was still sitting in front of the birdbath watching as robins and chickadees and sparrows flew to and from it, barely looking at Emily or treating her like a threat.

She shook her head and turned back to the half-chopped zucchini.

**Frank: **

He was laying on his stomach like he had two hours ago.

"Grandmother, guess that the ants are doing?" He called.

_The same thing they were doing two hours ago when you started watching them work around, _she thought to herself.

* * *

_Exhibit D_

**Emily:**

Mei peared out the window and saw Emily out with that strange man, walking out of the woods surrounding Zhang Mansion's property. She had a sword tied to her waist, rather unusual, and she was walking around with that ditziness to her step that came with having spent time outside her body and in one of an animal. Very unusual.

She was laughing and timidly pushing her hair from her face and behind her ear. He grabbed her by the waist, spun her off her feet. She fought against him and from inside the house Mei heard her daughter laugh a carefree, easy and authentic laugh that she hadn't heard since before Iraq.

**Frank:**

She was sitting on New Rome's Retirement Home's patio and she saw Frank coming from the chaos of the crowd. A big guy like him in legion purple wasn't hard to miss after all. He had arms wrapped around his neck and Mei realised that he had Hazel with him, and he was giving her a piggy back through New Rome since she'd broken her leg in combat. He was laughing his head off and she was pulling off some kind of imitation, scrunching up her gentle features.

Mei wasn't the only one to notice. Legionnaires had gotten twelve times as serious since coming back from a difficult victory in New York and Greece.

* * *

_Exhibit E_

**Emily:**

"Are you going to have kids, Emily?" Her Aunt Yu teased, elbowing her fifteen year old niece. "Are you going to give your nasty old mother someone else to fuss over?"

Mei rolled her eyes. Her sister was a godsdamned pain.

Emily scowled. "To be honest, no. I don't want kids, I don't need kids, and I want to work a job that makes having kids really hard."

"And what's that?" Yu asked again.

"I want to enrol in the military," she said raising her eyes up shyly to meet her parents' glares.

**Frank:**

Fai was helping her back up the stairs of New Rome's Nursing home. Mei despised the name, but after Zhang manor had burned down and she'd barely escaped with her life, she needed another place to stay and more help now.

"So this Hazel girl, your fiancé…"

"Yeah?" Fai asked. "Grandmother, please don't tell me that you suddenly hate her."

"No Fai. Why would I do that, you little ox? You need strong women in your life and she is a little tank. A very pretty and small tank, but a tough one. A keeper," Mei nodded. "I was wondering what your plans were."

"Well," her grandson cleared his throat. "I need to be in Canada because of the Forces and she wants to try out living in Edmonton. Don't worry; I'll still come visit your old bones even if she won't be here."

"I better damn expect so. Shame on you for even thinking of the contrary, Fai Zhang. When is this wedding? I'm an old woman so you better not wait too long."

"I don't know, Grandmother. This is new." Fai said.

"Well of course you dope I only found out this morning!" Mei said. "You wouldn't have told anyone before telling your Grandmother."

"Of course not," Fai said lying through his teeth.

"Your mother raised you better than to lie Fai Zhang, especially to your Grandmother. More shame on you." Mei said. "And what about starting a family?"

He nearly dropped the arm he was holding to support her.

"Gods, Grandmother, I don't know." He stuttered, nervous as a fly in a spider's web.

"Well do you _want _children?" She asked.

"I don't… I don't think so." Fai said. "I know that Hazel doesn't. She's scared to death of having kids and she likes exploring too much."

"'I don't think so' isn't a good answer." Mei said. "I only see you every now and then Fai Zhang, give me some straight answers."

"I don't want kids either," he said. "It's too dangerous because we're demigods, and legacies of Mars and Pluto? That's a wicked scent. Besides; I couldn't risk doing to my kids what Mom did to me."

"Emily didn't do it on purpose." Mei answered.

"I know, and that's the worst part."

* * *

_Exhibit F_

**Emily: **

She scrubbed her daughter's hands clean of gravel and the blood from scrapes.

"Why did you do that Emily?" She asked.

"A boy called me Mulan and I don't like that because it's not nice." Emily said.

"And hitting him in the eye is nice? A fifth grader?" She scolded.

"It's more nice than being mean about my eyes!" Emily chirped up.

"That's 'nicer' not 'more nice', for your information, and no it is not." She said.

_ But good job nailing that kid in the eye, you are _much _stronger then you look aren't you, you little bugger? And you took on a fifth grader? Good, good, very excellent, a very gutsy decision… _

**Frank: **

"I didn't mean to," was the first thing Frank said when he got off the school bus. He looked close to tears. Something must have happened in school and given Emily's recent deployment she knew that this was a sensitive day and didn't want a scene right away.

"You will tell me at home, Fai." She said putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him back home.

She sat him down at the kitchen table and checked his agenda. He looked down at his lap.

_Frank called a little boy a white chocolate chip today, as a reference to race. He visited the principal as a result. _

She looked up.

"Why, Frank?"

"Well, he told me I was yellow." Frank said. "And I told him I wasn't, but he told me I was, and so then he just said that I was a stupid yellow and then I told him that if I was yellow he was a white chocolate chip like in Subway cookies and my teacher was walking by and she got mad."

"Frank…" she started. She didn't know what to say though.

"He started it and he got my colour wrong. I'm not even yellow." Frank said. "Bananas are yellow, I don't understand."

"That's him being mean," she said. She'd leave the rest of that conversation to Emily. "And it's not something you let people tell you, alright? That's disgracing your ancestors and yourself. But don't call people names because of their colour. Now go to your room and think about what else you could have done."

"Told a teacher," Frank said miserably.

"Well it's a bit late to think of that one now isn't it? Up." She ordered. He marched upstairs, and she reached for a pen.

_Mrs. McMillan, before writing notes in my grandson's agenda about racist slurs please consider where he might have gotten the idea to initiate that as Frank is about as harmful as a baby koala. I have discussed the wrongness of his actions with him; now please discuss aforementioned wrongness with the class so that we don't have this discussion again, for I do not like your handwriting. Mei Zhang. _

* * *

_Exhibit F_

**Emily: **

She paced the bedroom slowly, cuddling with the ruckus of soft blue blankets. She hummed a lullaby under her breath and ran her hands up and down the baby's back, shushing the crying in a matter of seconds. It was incredible how much sleep-deprivation could motivate someone to find effective solutions to the loudest baby.

She lowered her baby into his crib after unwinding his fist from a stray lock of hair. For a while she rested her elbows on the crib's railing and looked down at her baby, her eyes filled with a strange, soft expression never before seen on Emily's face.

Of course the second she moved to get out of the bedroom, Mei had to run for it and pretend that she wasn't incredibly fond of watching her only daughter and her only grandson.

**Frank:**

When Mei walked into the room, taking tiny ginger steps forwards she looked up.

Jade was cooing in her father's arms, and twisting around like a worm. Frank had figured out how to hold her so that she could keep moving without there being a way in heaven or hell that she could slip and fall. He was even supporting her head. His fingertips were brushing her cheeks, making her coo furthermore.

When he realised she was there, Fai looked up and smiled sheepishly.

"And you didn't want to have kids," she said shaking her head disappointedly. "We can all thank the fates for royally ignoring you, Fai Zhang."

* * *

_Exhibit G_

**Emily:**

When she opened the door of Emily's room, piles of books were thrown onto the floor along with the pillows. Most of the usually permanent layer of desk-clutter peppered whatever floorboards had been left bare. She'd ripped apart some old math and science notes. Now the sixteen year old sat on her bed with her elbows resting on her knees and her face in her palms.

"Emily," her mother said sternly.

Emily looked up, eyes sprawled as if she was scared of being scolded for the mess she'd made.

Mei simply sighed. There was no way she could discipline her daughter now. Not when she'd just lost her father.

**Frank:**

When she walked out of the house, she expected to find Frank hiking through the woods either to get away from the house and the sharp memories of Emily every corner held, or up in one of Stanley Park's trees thinking.

She wasn't expecting him to be shooting her best china, propped up on posts, with more of it in a red wagon.

He released an arrow and, to his credit, Frank was an excellent shot and nailed it.

She was suddenly transported her to Emily's bedroom twenty-five years ago, back when she was still in high school and back when she'd trashed it and expected to get in trouble for it after her father had died. She supposed that she couldn't blame Frank for his actions, it was most likely encoded in Emily's feisty genetics. And she couldn't scold him at this point either, because he was making her think of the one person she couldn't bear to think of at the moment, who was ironically the one person she wanted to think of so very badly.


	19. Synonyms II

**I'm writing the fiftieth drabble right now! Yeay! **

**So this is something new because I've never had a two-drabble story before. Tell me if you guys like it, because there are two more possibilities. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.**

**Dedication: To Ryan, your other requests are on their ways.**

* * *

**Synonyms II**

**In the style of Frederic and Annabeth Chase**

He'd been trying to wrap up an email ever since he'd picked Annabeth up from school. It was one of those nights where work was piling up everywhere and it was all due yesterday. He felt sorry about the little attention he'd been able to give Annabeth, but he had to keep a roof above her head too, and sometimes the awkward middle part was hard to get. They'd stop for an ice cream cone after school tomorrow to make up for it; his workload would be kinder.

He'd thought that now his daughter was demanding attention, fair enough, but she'd had another nightmare and was clutching her stuffed penguin as if it might run away from her arms. The irony of the bird not being an owl although there'd been one on display at the store where they'd gotten it made him smile a bit every time he saw Annabeth's beloved 'Glitter'.

She climbed up in his arms and told him about the evil scientist again. He delivered his reassurances and comforted her by smoothing down her hair and swiveling his chair on wheels to fascinate her. He'd have to figure out something better to do though, those evil scientist dreams were getting to her _way _too much.

"Daddy?"

"Yes Annabeth?"

"Can I ask a question even if I'm supposed to be in bed?"

"You can always ask questions." Frederic said.

"What's another word for dangerous?" She asked.

Ah, the synonym game.

"Parlous," he answered.

"And immortal?"

"Sempiternal."

"God?"

"Deity."

"Prophecy?"

"Omen. Annabeth, what are you dreaming about?" He asked, suddenly super uncomfortable. She backed away from his chest, petting Glitter's head.

"Evil scientists in a lab hurting me," she said casually. It was only because of extensive experience that the twinkle in her eyes gave her away, and that he knew that he was being played. That smart little girl…

He carried her back to her room. She wiggled out of his arms at the door and threw her bath towel over something before he walked in, to hide it from him. It was a harmless K-nex structure in progress. He'd taken the precaution of checking what it was a few nights ago, just in case.

"Are you going to be okay now? How about I leave the door open a little so there's a tiny bit of light and you can fall asleep faster?"

Annabeth nodded and curled up in a ball, waiting for him to pull her blanket over her. He did, and on in way out he stopped her.

"Daddy. I know another word for night."

"Do you now?"

"Nyx," she said proudly.

The Greek goddess of night…

He swallowed. Something was going on, things were stirring in her mind. The gears were turning.

"Yes, that's one." Frederic said. "Now tell your brain to stop being so clever for now and to fall asleep."


	20. Lovers

**XX**

**Lovers**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Esperanza Valdez**

"Did I tell you about the time in the labyrinth?"

_Oh for gods' sakes, here we go again. _

Apparently Theseus saved his coolest party stories for when girls at the bar were really tired of hearing him talk. That was the thing with Elysium; if you wanted a beer you couldn't just walk into a place and sit down, because anywhere you went there were too many interesting people and people who thought that you were interesting that may or may not be interesting themselves. In this case she was dealing with a not-interesting type, which was why Emily minded being caught up. Also his thugs were surrounding her and that wasn't cool. She knew all of his myths already; including the one where he ditched the knocked-up girl he 'loved' on an island halfway through his trip home. That was reason number three hundred and ninety four that Emily had said 'no' when he'd asked her out, but that hadn't stopped old Theseus here from chatting up a storm.

Emily couldn't just walk out on him either. A bunch of his ancient buddies had put up stools all around them, so Emily was circled like a hunted fox.

He couldn't hurt her or anything –not that dead people were beyond injury, but Emily would brain him before he came anywhere close- but she wanted him to go away. She was bored, and all this biting-back-comments and being starred at was making her uncomfortable.

Her saving grace came in the form of a woman with too many curls wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and a jacket covered in stains and grease that was still slick.

"Oh there you are sweetheart, sorry I'm late." She said putting her arms around Emily from behind.

"Oh," Emily said trying not to freak. "Hi." She tried not to make that sound like a question.

Then she realised what was going on and it was genius.

"I know we'd said get a seat by the window, but I thought here was nice," she said playing alongg.

"Oh, no worries, no worries. Whatever you want, I want."

"Emily…" Theseus asked. "Who's… that?"

"Oh, I'm sorry for my manners, my name is Esperanza." The woman said extending her hand. The old hero shook it gingerly. "We came down here together; we have one of those rickety apartments by the Victorian manors."

"Yeah," Emily nodded. "Plane crash on our honeymoon."

"It was exceedingly tragic. And so romantic." Esperanza said.

"Ah," Theseus said looking down at his hands. "Lovers. I see."

"Actually, we're married. Hence the disastrous honeymoon trip." Emily said just to keep the look of his face alive.

"Em, you've already had a beer, why don't we just get coffee instead. Or grab some takeout, and just have supper right away. I'm starving." She said.

"Good idea," Emily said hopping off the bar stool. "It was a pleasure to meet you Theseus."

Theseus nodded gruffly as they elbowed their way back outside to the streets of Elysium.

Outside Emily sighed.

"Thank you _so much." _

"Not a problem," Esperanza said. "I've seen him do that to a lot of people; trying to break them down until they go out with him."

"Jerk, eh?" Emily asked. "Did he do it to you?"

Esperanza laughed. "Please. Not while I'm me."

"Why do you say that, you're fine." Emily said.

"You're not actually lesbian, are you?" Esperanza –whose name Emily was already mentally shortening to 'Anza'- worried.

"No, definitely not."

"Alright," Esperanza said. "Are you here on your own?"

"Yeah," Emily nodded.

"No parents or kids? Husband? Husband_s? _Siblings?"

"You know, for someone who just saved me from getting a heroic retelling of the story of the labyrinth, you're very interested in my love life."

Esperanza smacked her arm.

"And... my father isn't in Elysium. My mother's still above. My son's alive. His father… well, it's complicated. But nope, I'm here all alone like a big girl."

"Same," Esperanza said. "For all three, as a matter of fact. On an unrelated note, do you actually have plans tonight or do you want to get takeout for real?"

"Food sounds great," Emily said. "That was just the story of my life, right there."

"Amen to that," Esperanza said. "Chinese food?"

"I refuse to eat that stuff."

"Whoops, sorry. Thai?"

"Thai sounds good." Emily said. "But I don't know a…."

"I've been in Elysium long enough to get myself an apartment," Esperanza said. "I know a place for _everything_."

"Amen to that too," Emily nodded.

And the two walked off.


	21. Haunting

**Haunting**

**In the style of the Valdez' **

Rosa woke up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, yawning. When she blinked enough that the world around her was clear again, she gasped and nearly screamed. Most of the furniture in her room was upside down.

Her dresser was upside down so that its content must be horribly mixed up and thrown around. Her closet doors were leaning against the frame upside down, nuts and bolts laying on the floor neatly with a screwdriver. The curtains were hanging over her door. The pictures usually hanging on her walls were upside down. Her bedside table was flipped, but the lamp and book and tissue box that'd been on it were still there, at the exact same place she'd left them.

She screamed.

* * *

Rosa sighed when she entered her kitchen. The curtains were tied into knots. _Again._

She checked the drawer. The spoons and the knives had switched places in the cutlery tray, and there were no forks. She was sure that she'd find them planted in her front lawn or something equally inconvenient again.

Her fridge's magnets had rearranged themselves to make a smiley face that was creepier than anything she'd ever seen.

She turned around and found the forks, all stabbed into various fruits in the fruit bowl.

* * *

All of her shoes were tied together by the laces with handy knots, some even held together by wire that had been welded. Her belt was one enormous bundle of knots.

* * *

Rosa sighed when she came down the stairs. She was running late and tired, and when she nearly slipped on the main story's floor she nearly groaned when she saw the course.

Mustard and mayonnaise and ketchup had been spread all over the floor; arrows were marking the way towards the door and writing out the names of different articles of furniture at their feet.

Okay: for the last few weeks she'd been assuming that she was doing some kind of trauma-induced sleepwalking as a result of Esperanza's death. But there was no way she hadn't been covered in condiments when she went to sleep if she'd done this herself.

* * *

It was a rainy day in Houston, and a breeze had come through the open windows making everything chilly. It was the weekend so naturally Rosa had the day off. She was wrapped in a bath robe coat, and she wanted to crash at the kitchen table and read the morning paper and sip her coffee, but that plan was immediately foiled.

All of the chairs were on the table, and the table's legs had been removed and were bolted onto the ceiling.

* * *

She came home from a long day at work, where she'd dealt with some snotty students, and groaned.

All of the couch's pillows as well as the accent pillows had been pulled off. They were forming a neat pyramid in the middle of her living room.

She tried to undo the pyramid but the pillows were sewed together.

* * *

She unlocked the door and let herself in, followed closely by Joshua. He was one of her student's fathers, but tonight they'd been out on a date. Rosa really liked him, and she was hoping that maybe they'd go out on another one.

All of the blankets in the house, even the spare ones, had been stripped off the bed and guest bed and spread throughout the first floor to cover everything up. Towels and dishrags patched up the bare spots, and so her whole house looked like some game of Candy Land.

"Ummm…" He said behind her.

_God damn. This _definitely _can't be sleepwalking. _

* * *

She opened the bathroom door and ran into a wall of saran wrap when she tried to walk through. She shrieked and batted it away from her face.

The same thing happened with every door in her house.

Her house had a lot of doors...

* * *

She reached for the shampoo bottle as she took a shower, and squirted some into her hands, eyes closed, and then into her hair. The shower suddenly smelled strange. Like…

"_Laundry detergent!" _She said. In a rush she hopped out of the shower, pulled her robe on and quickly cleaned the detergent out of her hair. Once that was over, she decided to brush it all out. Which worked fine until the brush got stuck in her black locks. She had to pull it away and something sticky remained. Something like…

"Honey," she realised.

* * *

She couldn't get her email typed and sent to Maddy Murphy's parents. She would push a key and another letter would pop onscreen. She was getting very frustrated and some choice vocabulary usually associated to Esperanza (God bless her late sister) was coming out.

She tried reading through her laptop's user manual and suddenly noticed a picture of the keyboard.

The 't' wasn't at the same place on hers as it was in the picture.

But how could all the letters have just magically changed places?

She sighed.

* * *

She went to open the door and go to the bathroom before getting dressed, and looked up and realised that her doorknob was way above her head, and that somehow the door was still locked.

Damn it.

* * *

She was sleeping peacefully when she heard the noise start. She woke up so hastily she nearly fell out of bed.

It didn't stop, so she put on a bathrobe and went to look all over the house in frenzy. She couldn't figure out for the life of her what it was, but it was loud enough to wake up all the neighbours.

Finally she checked outside, where a few neighbours were also poking their noses out at five in the morning.

There was an airhorn with a taped-down trigger on her front lawn.

* * *

Rosa woke up feeling uncomfortable. She tried to sit up, but soon realised she couldn't.

From head to foot she was duct taped to her bed.

* * *

When she started her car she heard quick firing shots like… like a shotgun!

She squealed and ducked into the shotgun seat of her car, letting go of the steering wheel and knocking the key out of the ignition. The noise stopped, but she lied there shaking like a leaf for a few seconds.

Gingerly she sat up and looked around the street. Nobody else was panicking…

She got up and examined her car.

"Son of a… _how?" _She asked herself.

Bubble wrap was taped all around her car's tires.

* * *

She woke up and noticed that her door was gone.

Very typical and usual.

* * *

She groaned. Her lawn mower was brand new, and all of a sudden it refused to work!

She fussed with it for a while before calling one of the guys who worked at Sammy's Workshop and demanding a family favour.

When he checked the motor, he asked why it was completely re-rigged.

* * *

She needed a mental health break before she kept correcting the pile of English essays from her remedial class. It was a discouraging brand of fresh hell. She pushed the TV's 'on' button before crashing on her couch.

When Rosa picked up the remote control for the television's volume, a vase fell from the fireplace mantel and she screamed in surprise. The two were tied together by transparent string. She picked up the remote for the TV to turn it off while she cleaned up, and a flower pot tumbled from an even higher shelf. It was rigged just like the first remote.

Opening the broom closet's door to get the broom and dustpan, she caused a decorative plate on her wall to fall. _Also _rigged.

* * *

Pennies were jammed between the doorframe and the door, locking her inside of her bedroom.

* * *

"I'm telling you Rosa," Uncle Diego who worked at the family mechanic shop said. "You have to get something done. I'm not going to keep coming back at 8:00 AM with a ladder to keep getting your clothes off your roof. I've been doing it for six years, and I ain't going to do it for a second longer."

"I don't know what is going on," she said clucking her tongue. "I bolt the windows shut, it's not my sleepwalking because there's no way to _get _to the roof without your ladder…"

"This house is the damnedest place I've ever seen. The place needs more of Jesus. It even _smells _like a sinner." Her overly religious mother yapped. Uncle Diego had dragged her with him.

"Mama, this place isn't haunted." Rosa said.

"It's not haunted, it's damned. Aren't ya listening to me, Rosa?"

"Thank you Uncle Diego," Rosa said finally. "I'm already running late, I'll talk to you tonight." She said kissing him on the cheek before closing the front door.

She leaned against it, sighing. This was ridiculous. What on _earth _was going on? Nothing logical came to mind…

Oh gods, maybe her mother was right. Maybe the place was haunted.

* * *

"Okay," Emily said. "I know that we have a no-questions-asked clause, but what the hell is it that you do during the five hours a day that nobody sees you?"

Esperanza looked up at her roommate and smiled cheekily.

"I have a sister who called by son a devil, blamed him for my death, and refused to take him in like she should as a godmother. I'm still pissed, and have a master's in engineering."


	22. Airport

**Yeay! A new drabble with new characters! Happy late Valentine's Day.**

**Disclaimer: Me no own characters. **

* * *

**Airport **

**In the style of Tristan McLean and Aphrodite**

He sat down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and dropped his bag at his feet. He'd never been in an airport before but he'd already decided that he hated them deeply.

He was sandwiched between the father of a family of five who were all eating burgers shinny with grease, and an old woman with a scratchy wool sweater that smelled like cats. He'd missed his connection, again because he'd never been in an airport before, and so he'd be stuck here for another five hours.

He pulled a script out of his bag and started looking over _Macbeth _for the millionth time. He could recall all of the lines except his own. Murphy's Law caught in the act, of course.

During the next hour the scenery changed. The woman with the horrible sweater was still next to him. The family of five had run off to catch a plane or stop the youngest child from screaming his head off, and was replaced by a businessman who'd decided to take four consecutive seats to lie down and nap which just seemed rude. He kicked Tristan every few seconds, but he made a lot less noise so he was ready to put up with him.

He heard something drop and looked up to see a paperback book at his feet. He picked it up and handed it to the woman sitting across from him. She was scurrying to pick up some things and put them back in her purse.

"Sorry, thank you so much," she said taking it from him bashfully. "My fingers are like butter today, I don't know what for…"

"Don't worry," Tristan said. The man next to him kicked him in the side and he clucked his tongue.

"Oh, the joy of airports," she said smiling.

"No kidding," he replied. "I knew there was a reason I didn't fly." _Other than the fact that it costs an arm and a leg._

"Then you must be going somewhere important. Where are you off to?" The woman sitting across from him asked.

"London," he said.

"Funny, so am I." She smiled. "But for a man who's going to visit the hub of British culture, you don't seem very excited."

"I'm not," he said. "I'm going for a wedding."

"Weddings aren't half as bad as they sound, if that's what's bothering you. Unless there's some deep unresolved drama in the air- then it can get interesting." She said, smiling at her last sentence.

"Oh, this one's going to be a pain." Tristan said grimacing.

"Don't knock it 'till you try it," she said encouragingly. "Come on. Why is it so very doomed?"

"It's the wedding of a guy who was in one of my classes and decided that he liked me so I must like him too. I haven't talked to him in over a year, but he's either disregarding the fact that I'm so poor I don't even own a suit or assuming that he's important enough to me for me to fly to London to watch him marry a girl I don't even know."

"Sounds complicated."

"It is," Tristan sighed. He was pretty pissed about every single part of it too.

"But you know, you never _have _to go to the wedding. I've been to a few where the bride didn't even show." She said.

"I guess I just broke down after he pleaded for a while. Plus after you become a guest you stop getting play-by-play emails on the planning because they're 'spoilers'."

She giggled. "You should keep your chin up. Maybe something good will come out of this."

It was like he really started looking at her when she said that. Her hair was brown and sometimes black in the light. Her eyes were the colour of cocoa and her skin was as smooth as a doll's. She was gorgeous, and once her smile and the glitter of her eyes and the way she talked factored in she was beautiful.

"Maybe," he said. "If you don't mind me asking, what brings you to London? Family?"

"No," she said shaking her head. "Just… I'm just wandering."

"Like a backpacker?"

"No, not quite." She said pondering the question. "There's just so much beauty to see, you can't just stay home can you?"

"I suppose not," Tristan said. "By the way, my name's Tristan."

"Oh, right, manners." She said. "I'm Freya."

"That's a goddess, isn't it? Norse if I'm correct."

"It is," she smiled. He remembered now, Freya was the Norse goddess of beauty and love. It sounded shallow so he tried not to pay attention to it, but the thought came to mind: _how appropriate. _

"What seat are you?" She asked. She looked down at her ticket. "I'm 18C."

"18B," he replied.

"Great!" Freya beamed. "That way you won't be sitting next to his type again."

"Yay," Tristan said trying to stifle a yawn. "Excuse me, you're not boring, it's just that I'm jetlagged already."

Freya laughed. "Walking around helps," she said getting up.

"Well, you're the expert wanderer." He said getting up and picking up his bag, folding his script and slipping it in his back pocket.


	23. Lectures

**Happy Family Day! As a result you guys get a whole bunch of Parenthood Drabbles, up to one featuring a character a bunch of you have been asking for. Remember, it's alright to make requests! But it's not okay not to tell me what was good and bad about each chapter just because it's easier to review at the end, like, really guys I want to know what you guys think, I need feedback! **

**Somewhat PG13 joke at the beginning of this.**

* * *

**XXIII**

**Lectures**

**In the style of Frederic and Annabeth Chase **

"Coffee is way more effective than sleeping with the teacher," Danielle said matter-of-factly.

"You are bad," Marie replied shaking her head.

"How am I bad? I'm finding healthy alternatives to prostitution. I am an _excellent _person." Danielle said as they crossed the campus in silence to get back to the auditorium where they were listening to a lecture on the American Civil War. This was their twenty minute break in the six hour lecture, and they were lucky to have gotten to the tiny coffee stand before the rest of the students.

They climbed down the amphitheater steps to go on the stage where their professor was straightening out some papers. On the way down the steps, Marie noticed someone new; a little girl sitting in the front row. She had a pillow tucked underneath her legs and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. A backpack was on the seat next to her, lumpy as if it was filled with books. A water bottle stuck out from the top.

They crossed the stage.

"Hey Doc, we brought you coffee." Danielle said handing him a cup.

"Thank you," Dr. Chase said, looking up from his papers and stunned by the gift. "Finally two people who know how to ace the course."

Danielle shot Marie a meaningful look.

"How are you two doing?"

Dr. Chase had recently helped Marie get into a really tight research program about the Civil war last week. He'd argued with his fellow director for ages and gotten Marie in even if she didn't have a BA yet. She'd spent a week away from classes and her job picking through South Carolinian family heirlooms that were actually Civil War relics and trying to place them in history for a show called _Souvenirs from History_ that would air on the History Channel. She was in even more debt than she'd been before, but it had totally been worth it. For some reason she thought that Dr Chase had a soft spot for her.

Danielle whizzed through the latest awesome thing she'd done, making Dr Chase laugh.

"Who's the little guest at the front?" Danielle asked after he'd finished laughed. "I didn't know that they made prodigies that young."

"Oh, they do." He said with a smile. "That's my daughter, Annabeth."

"That's a cute name." Marie said. It was very unusual, and didn't carry itself well for a little girl. It sounded so very proper and grown up. She tried to figure out a meaning, an etymology… maybe it was an anagram for something.

"Hmm, she's a cute kid." He said. "Also particularly bright. I think she understands more of my lectures than some of the students who pay to be here."

"Well that's not hard," Marie mumbled. She had a very high intolerance for ignorance.

"Well I'm not supposed to pronounce myself on the subject, but you're right Marie; it is not." He said.

"Wouldn't she rather stay home, though? Draw, run around, play?" Danielle asked.

"Nope." Dr Chase said. "She likes reading, and she rather read here, so she says. The background noise or the history might interest her- but I think she's really just a daddy's girl. But don't tell her I said so."

Marie smiled. She liked this kid.

"Do you mind if we go say hello?"

"Oh, no, go for it. She's reading right now, so she may take a few seconds to answer- I only got about five minutes of chatting out of her. But I promise she doesn't bite. Unless she's at a good part."

Danielle giggled but Marie knew that that was a serious risk for a fact. As a child her father wouldn't even touch her if she was reading a book and was really into it, and had found little ways to tell if she was, too.

They left him to his papers and went to go meet her.

Danielle knelt in front of her.

"Hi," she said.

As promised it took a few seconds for her to look up, but Annabeth did with startlingly grey and stunningly intelligent eyes. They were unsettling to Marie.

"Hello," she replied courteously.

"My name's Dani," Danielle said. "And you are?"

"Annabeth May Chase," she replied holding out to her hand.

"Good to meet you," Danielle said with an 'aww, cute' smile, shaking Annabeth's hand. "That's a nice name."

"You have a pretty middle name too, sweetheart." Marie said.

"My daddy likes a writer called Louisa May Alcott. She was my mommy's favourite too, that's what he told me but I have no reasonable or adequate proof." Annabeth said. "He said that I'll have to read her books when I'm old enough and I hope that's soon."

"I read Little Women when I was nine," Marie said. "She was one of my mother's favourites too."

"I'll read Little Women when I'm nine too." Annabeth nodded.

"Make sure to read Little Men too," Marie said.

"I don't like sequels," Annabeth said.

"This one's a good sequel. You can ask your mother." Marie said.

"Oh I can't do that," Annabeth said shaking her head. "My mother's gone and I don't know her name so I can't look in the phone book."

"Okay," Danielle said. She rescued the conversation by asking Annabeth what she was reading. She went into a deep discussion about Harry Potter.

Marie tugged on her scarf and pondered something. She looked over at Dr. Chase who was now correcting essays, giving Annabeth, Marie and Danielle some space.

No way.

But she took a good look at Annabeth... The curls, the language, the eloquence... and the eyes. Especially the eyes.

She walked over.

"Annabeth told us that she doesn't know her mother," she said.

Dr Chase looked up shocked, as if he was expecting to have to argue with her about it.

"That's correct," he said. "She came out of nowhere when Annabeth was born and left her with me."

"And she told us that her middle name is May because her mother's favourite writer was Louisa May Alcott."

"She tells too much too quickly," he muttered under his breath. He was right; he'd have to get her not to if Marie's hypothesis was correct.

"And I saw her eyes."

"Everyone has eyes."

"My middle name is Louisa," Marie said.

Dr Chase looked at her and he smiled a bit.

"I was wondering how long it'd take you to figure it out after you met her," he said. "I was betting on more than ten seconds."

"About two minutes," Marie said. "Though her name _is _an anagram for 'Athena' if you add an 'a' and a 'b', so I suppose that I had a head start."

He smiled to himself and shook his head.

"Is it that obvious?"

"No, I've just anagrammed words in my head since I was a child to stay focused, and calm when people were bothering me." Marie said. "How long have you known that I was a child of Athena?"

"Since you walked into this class and asked your very first question." Dr Chase said. "Also when you inverted the letters like b and d on your first report draft- dyslexia, I assumed."

"Is that…" Marie hesitated. This might make it sound like she thought he was a creeper. "Is that why you chose me for the television project?"

"I needed someone who would work hard and be resourceful. I knew that if you'd chosen this class, you were in this class you were passionate about American history. I knew that you would work hard if this was what you'd chosen as your passion. That's how everyone in your family is- you should see the towers and K-nex constructions Annabeth builds in her room. I knew you'd want the opportunity more than anything, and that I could rely on you."

The pit of Marie's stomach started bubbling up. She was used to being nerdy and bookie, prideful and know-it-all, clever and intellectual. This was a whole new side of Marie that he was bringing up, and it was a side the sun barely ever shined on and that mostly went unnoticed. She, and all her siblings, could fixate on a single thing and never, ever stop learning or discovering or working with it. It could be bad, but it could be good. And not many people acknowledged that.

"Thank you, Dr Chase," Marie said. "It really means a lot. And one day it'll mean a lot to Annabeth."

Danielle walked up to them.

"Thank God that people have started to walk in, I could hardly keep up with that kid. Where did she learn all those words?"

"People are..?" Dr Chase looked at the steady stream of people coming back into the amphitheater. "Shoot."

He chugged a gulp of coffee. "I'll check on Annabeth now that she's torn away from her book. Thanks for that. And also for the coffee."

"Later Doc," Danielle said before dragging Marie up the stairs.


	24. Playing Nurse

**Playing Nurse**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

"Emily Zhang," she heard.

"Morning, doc," Emily said struggling to sit up as her doctor walked in.

"Don't," he said shaking his head. "You're still very hurt. But we can let you go home; as long as you have someone there to help you move and make sure you don't get hurt. Is there anybody who could do that?"

Emily's brain whizzed. She put a hand over her eyes and sighed. So close, yet so far of getting out of here…

Mom was sick and in a hospital herself right now. Most of her friends were in Vancouver, and she doubted that she could afford to leave Edmonton right now or that she could if she tried…

That left one person.

"Yeah, there's someone." She said.

* * *

He turned the key in the lock for her and pushed the door open.

"I could have done that," she said.

"Keep telling yourself that," Mars said. He had an arm around her and he was helping her walk around.

Yeah, yeah; a god of war playing nurse- great idea! That sounded _so _fantastic and fun.

Of course not and she wasn't an idiot. She knew that. But Emily hadn't had anyone else to call, and she and the war god had been on pretty good terms when she'd been deployed. The doctors had been puzzled when she'd told them that a friend could take care of her. Well, in a way Emily had been puzzled too. As in '_why the heck have I not done anything about this whole 'friend' thing yet?' _

Anyways, here they were.

She flicked the lights of her apartment on. She shared it with a friend who worked for the Red Cross and was also barely home but still needed a place occasionally. Deryn was away right then, so the apartment was empty and felt like it.

"Does anyone ever live here?" Mars asked.

"Yeah, when we're not around the world for X reason," Emily said. She reached up to turn the lights on but Mars swatted her hand away and did it himself.

"Where's your room?" He asked.

"Straight down the hallway," she said. "Thanks again for doing this. I couldn't stand being in that hospital…"

"I know," he said.

"I know you hate playing nurse."

"Emily, for you I'd play dead." Mars said pushing her door open.

* * *

Her stomach grumbled and his hand hovered mid-air. They were playing poker, and he was sitting next to her bed.

"Hungry?" He asked.

"Guess so."

"You should have said something," Mars said.

"It just… It feels needy."

"You got hurt in combat and you can't move without nearly passing out. To top it off; you're jet-lagged. You _are _needy, Zhang."

"Doesn't mean I like it."

"If the world revolved around what you liked, we'd be in a load of trouble." Mars said. "You're used to being independent and on your own, and you're a bit prideful in that respect- but you really have to learn to ask for help."

"We'll see about that." Emily said.

"Also stubborn- nearly forgot to mention how stubborn you are. Anyways, what kind of food do you have in here?"

"I don't know what Deryn left." Emily said.

"I'll figure something out," Mars said getting up. "In the meantime don't you dare steal my cards."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Emily grinned. She'd been contemplating it ten seconds earlier.

* * *

She choked on her drink and started coughing. Immediately her whole abdomen felt like it was filled with fire and poison and it _burned. _She couldn't stop coughing, plus she was trying not to shriek… it wasn't fun.

Mars put a hand on her stomach and the cozy warmth of his healing powers calmed her down.

"I am so sick of this." She said.

"You've only been home twenty-four hours," Mars said with a teasing smile. "You're in for the longest week or so of your life."

* * *

"Zhang…" Someone behind her said. His voice was a mixture of exhaustion and fondness. Emily pivoted on her foot –very slowly- to turn around.

"It was dark in here," she said.

"I would've opened the curtains for you." Mars said.

"I wanted to do it myself," she insisted.

"How did you even get up on your own?"

"It hurt like hell."

"Well laying down again will be worst, so joke's on you." Mars said.

"Who said I'm laying down again?"

Mars gave her a look that made her laugh. Immediately her stomach churned in pain and she had to stop and catch her breath. Mars had rushed to her side and was offering her his arm. She gripped it until she started breathing normally again. He revived the conversation.

"_That's _why you're going to lay down again. I had to do a fair bit of handiwork to get you out of the hospital without being direct family, Emily Zhang. And even so you're in my care, so I'm five times your god now."

"As if," she snorted. "I don't _like _not doing anything. I am so bored."

"Do you like being on medical leave and walking around the house in pain more?" Mars asked. "Or even better; hanging out in a hospital."

Emily sighed. "Touché."

She gripped his arm and slowly shuffled across her bedroom. She lowered herself slowly and cautiously to sit on her bed, holding her breath the entire time. She swung one leg and then the next onto the mattress. She bit her lips as she lowered herself down so she didn't make a sound despite the ripping sensation in her stomach. Mars put his spare arm on her back and helped her lie down. Her head touched the pillow and she sighed.

"I'm never getting up again."

"Oh, we'll be having this same exact discussion tonight." Mars promised. "The better solution is just not to fall on a grenade again," Mars said brushing a strand of hair out of her face. A really tender act she didn't get out of him often.

"There were twenty other guys in range of that bomb," Emily said. "I wasn't going to let twenty one people die if one would do."

"Pretty heroic of you, Master Corporal," Mars said. Emily didn't say anything. It hadn't _seemed _heroic at the time.

"That's how you know it was," Mars said.

"Pardon?"

"You know something's heroic if it wasn't meant to be. If it was done on purpose to be a hero, then it's selfish and shallow. You're a good woman, Zhang. A good soldier." Mars kissed her cheek. "I'm proud of you."

Emily didn't know exactly how to react, so she decided to do what she had back in Iraq. Don't think: do.

"Speak for yourself, I'm not proud of you in the slightest. You missed my lips by a longshot." She said.

He grinned, bent down, and kissed her for real.


	25. Genevieve

**Yeay for twenty-five! I'm going to tell you right now that this chapter is going to be the first of a few that go around this story line. I'll randomly whip up a chapter about this, you just have to let me know if you like them.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters shown below.**

* * *

**Genevieve**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson **

Sally kept pacing the lobby.

"Sally, sit down." Paul tried to coax her.

"He's right," Frederic said. "We're probably going to be here for much longer."

"I can't," Sally said impatiently. Usually she was calm and peaceful; not restless. But right then she was short on sleep, nerves, patience and soothing, comforting thoughts on how her son could make it out of anything. 'Usually' was not happening right now. Her sudden change didn't help anybody's nerves.

"Is there any way to have an idea what they're doing up there?" Tristan asked looking up at the ceiling.

"No, I would've found it by now." Sally said. "Gods damn, I spend too much of my time in here."

"Have you tried Iris Messaging?" Frederic asked.

"Yes, but Iris is slightly busy right now." Sally said. She paused to check on the tiny baby curled up in the stroller. She'd only had to feed Genevieve once, and she had slept through most of the waiting. Paul had picked her up to quiet her down once- Sally was shaking too badly to hold her- and since then she'd been sleeping the hours away while Sally paced.

Genevieve was tucked under a blanket- it was chilly outside despite the usual August warmth. The storms brewing all over the country were responsible- a reason more for Sally to wish the skies were peaceful.

"The weather's just as horrible," said Tristan who'd moved over to the window.

"That doesn't mean a thing," Emily said tapping her foot to the ground distractedly. "Honestly, it could just be two gods squabbling over a basketball's game result. They're more childish than you'd like the world's most powerful beings to be."

The two ghosts in the lobby were interesting at the least. Both had come together, explaining that yes they were dead but things were messed up so badly it didn't matter much and they might as well see their sons. Emily was Frank's mother –supposedly Percy would know him, and Esperanza had Leo- of course.

"Not a storm that strong, could it?" Sally asked.

"Mars didn't do storms," Emily said playing with the zipper of her desert camouflage jacket. She seemed to be as restless as a demigod; maybe she had ADHD as a legacy. "He was more creative when he had to destroy his enemies. I have no idea"

Esperanza got up and walked around too.

"Tristan, you holding up?" Frederic asked.

"Yeah, I guess." He said. "I'm just… I thought Piper would be here. This wasn't what I was expecting."

"I was thinking of starting a club," Esperanza said. "I'll insist on being president, but you can be secretary."

"Make buttons and I'm in," Emily said.

Genevieve cooed and stirred. Sally put a hand on her cheek and shushed her softly. She didn't need to deal with a crying baby right now either, as much as she loved her.

"How old is she?" Esperanza asked nudging her head towards the crib.

"Two months," Sally said with a small smile. Some things could make you smile even in the darkest times. The darkest times were now, when Percy could be anywhere doing anything and be in any state, and that one thing was her small family. She'd never thought she'd have one if Percy wasn't there, but she'd been wrong. She just couldn't wait to have her family whole again.

"Cute as a button," Emily said.

Genevieve woke up and stirred. Sally picked her up before she could cry.

"Did our worrying wake you up, sweetie?" She said. Genevieve curled up against her, like she always did when she was held. She didn't cry. Genevieve wasn't a picky child; if attention was being given to her, she was good with virtually anything. Even waking up in a strange place with strange people.

"Probably the thunder," Tristan said, still looking outside.

"Sally, you're shaking." Paul said softly. She was.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry," he said kissing her cheek and taking Genevieve into his own arms. Sally paced again.

They waited another twenty minutes during which little conversation went down- most of which was empty and nervous- and Genevieve drank her last bottle and drifted off to sleep.

That's when Emily got to her feet, head towards the ground. She looked as bright and intense as a hunter who'd heard a branch crack in the woods.

"Em? Losing it?" Esperanza checked.

"No, elevator." She said her head snapping up. She'd explained previously that her family tree was weird and that some of her senses were as sharp as animals.

Sally thought she was going to be sick. Her nerves were twice as bad as they'd been for the last seven months. What if Percy wasn't in the elevator? What if Annabeth wasn't? That would nearly be the same thing. What if he was hurt badly or if his memory was permanently damaged or he'd decided to move in with the Romans a million miles away? Oh gods, that elevator could ding open and only six demigods would come out… No.

Another thing to worry about bugged her. What if he was mad?

She'd only found out she was pregnant at the start of December, and had elected to tell Percy after Christmas break, once the first trimester was over. Just in case something happened to the baby, and to keep his Christmas at camp happy if he didn't take things well. She'd heard plenty of stories of kids feeling unloved or pushed aside when their parents had other children and as sweet and open as Percy was, he was still human and prone to human emotions. Well, half-human, which was her whole problem to begin with.

Anyways, after he'd disappeared she hadn't had a chance to let him know, obviously. She'd told Annabeth not to tell him. This was something that had to come from her. He was her son, and a little sister was big news. He was coming home a hero (if he was coming home, she kept reminding herself unwillingly) and he'd be tired and so done with drama. He'd want attention, of course. He'd want things to go back to normal, more peaceful even. And there was a baby instead.

They were all on their feet, watching the doors like eagles and their prey. She wasn't the only one who'd missed her child. Emily hadn't seen Frank in even longer because of her deployment, Frederic hadn't seen Annabeth since Thanksgiving, and Esperanza's absence was a matter of years.

The little light dinged, the doors slid open, and Sally's heart fell.

Percy was running, but she caught up to him halfway, choking him in her grip. He buried his face in her hair, like he used to do after having a nightmare as a child. Like he knew she could make things alright. She knew that she would. She had to.

"Oh gods, oh gods you're alright!"

"I'm okay, Mom," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, don't be sorry," she said hugging him even more tightly. "Just… oh, I'm glad you're home."

She tried not to cry, but it was like all of her anxiety had just shattered like glass. She knew that he probably had war stories and scars that would hurt and need to be told, but he was home. They could make this work like they always had. They _would _make it work.

"And be glad that I'm not going to chip you and lock you in your room for the rest of your life," she said. "You are _never _spending Christmas at camp again. There is clearly something with you and the holidays…"

Percy laughed. "I won't do it again. But you need to get that promise from Hera."

"So I've heard," Sally said. For the goddess of motherhood and family, Hera didn't know her turf well.

Paul hugged Percy quickly and muttered something about being relieved. He could never get his emotions out, and this was the best she'd seen him do in a while.

She ran her hand through Percy's hair. "You need a haircut, and probably a decent meal. If you've been feeding yourself, dare I ask if you even remember what a vegetable is? The colour green in general? What about the word _sleep__, _goodness Percy you're pale…"

"There's a really good reason for that but I'll tell you later," Percy said hugging her again. She dropped her head on his shoulder. Her boy was home_._

_"_Uh, Mom?" He finally asked.

She straightened up and followed his gaze. Genevieve's stroller was right in his line of vision.

"Something happened while you were gone." She said quickly.

"Apparently lots of things happened," Percy said. "Mom, is that seriously..?"

"You… have a little sister." Sally said.


	26. Arms

**If someone can figure out when this happens (because there should be enough clues) you get an Internet cookie and a oneshot dedicated to you.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following characters. Also thank you to toloveandinspire for pointing out a flaw in my Google-obtained Italian.**

* * *

**Arms**

**In the style of Maria, Bianca, Nico di Angelo and Hades**

Nico was staring into space again. What at? To hell if Maria knew. Maybe he was staring at nothing, or maybe at a ghost. She just didn't like him going off like that because she seriously wanted him to understand that being able to interact with people was important- crucial, actually, when it came to being a part of the world. Maybe as a diplomat's assistant she poured too much attention into that. Or at least an ex-diplomat-assistant... The war and her Italian citizenship made everything complicated right now, even Hades was back and from Olympus all the time.

Maria made a growling monster sound and picked him up from behind to snap him back to reality. He giggled and wiggled, trying to get out of her grasp.

Bianca giggled too. But even as charitable as she was she couldn't let her brother get all the attention.

"Mama, mama," she said tugging at Maria's dress, wanting up too.

"Oh Bianca, we've already talked about my arms, they're like twigs! I can't pick you _both _up." Maria said trying desperately to hold Nico still with one arm, her other hand touching Bianca's hair.

"Looks like you'll need an extra pair of arms." Someone said.

Bianca was scooped up from behind. She was really freaked out for seconds, but after getting a raspberry blown on her cheek she laughed as she recognised her father's arms.

Even if they'd been having arguments about her staying in America with the children, and even if hiding out in hotels was a chaotic life; Hades was a much more… _humane _father than Maria could have ever imagined. Even if they'd been arguing his eyes would light up when he put the kids to bed, or cut up food into little pieces for Nico, or helped Bianca brush her hair. He could even do braids at this point. _Braids. _The god of death braiding hair! She nearly laughed just thinking about it.

He turned to her, smiling as a hello. But she could tell by his eyes that he had news from Olympus and that they needed to talk. It was probably more about that oath his brother the king had proposed and that all of the gods were now talking about. As much as that was a conversation that she didn't want to have, she would sit down and have another discussion about all of this with him. No doubt he'd talk about her safety as well...

"Come on," she said, snatching up her black hat –the one with the little veil- and putting it on quickly. "Let's go to the lobby. You two little _tesoris _could use a change of scenery, yes? And maybe even more room to play." **  
**


	27. The Virgin Mary

**Hi guys! So the mini-contest I put up last chapter was won by IceLumos963. Your reward story should be up this evening sometime, it depends. I have lots to do. I just fasted for 30 hours as a charity thing to provide lunch money to schools in Jamaica who needed it. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I actually didn't feel hungry until the last two hours and besides, I had _so _much fun with the other people. We played Loup-garou, manhunt, scrabble slam, spoons and watched Star Trek.**

**Anyways, this chapter here has two new characters in it, so please tell me how you like it. Also one of them is about to get a oneshot written about them, so I'm feeling strongly right now. Here's your chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own characters.**

* * *

**The Virgin Mary**

**In the style of Esperanza and Sammy Valdez**

"Esperanza Valdez!" Carmen Valdez scolded.

The little girl's whole world came to a screeching halt full of terror. _Shoot. _

The other boys climbing around leaped off and ran before their own parents came. She shamefully climbed down from the statue.

"Shame on you," her mother said wagging a finger like a dog's tail. "That's the Virgin Mary, Esperanza. What did I tell you about that statue _last _Sunday?"

"Not to climb it."

"Not to climb what and why?" Carmen said strictly. Esperanza wound her hands in the skirt of her Sunday dress.

"Not to climb the statue of the Virgin Mary 'cause it's not nice." She said in a small voice, bowing her head to avoid her mother's glare, sending the delicate balance of her gazillions of curls flying.

"Exactly. And the next time you just never-mind what I tell you, there _will _be consequences, understood?"

"Oh, Carmen," _Abuelo _said with a click of his tongue. "Don't be so hard on Anza."

_Abuelo _was the only person allowed to call Esperanza 'Anza' in front of her mom. All the others did it behind her back so that they didn't get yelled at, except for Rosa who was such a goody-two-shoes she didn't ever call her 'Anza'.

"Sammy, she was climbing the statue of Mary and I won't stand for that, this isn't your call to make. I can discipline my own daughter, thank you very much." Mom tried to explain to her father in law.

"Little children admire by touching and exploring, not looking and worshiping. Anza's just doing her part." Sammy said. "Besides, she's small, and that was such a _long _service that I'm nearly up for climbing statues. How about I take my little girls to the park instead?"

Rosa turned the offer down because she was a goody-two-shoes and since Mama didn't like _Abuelo, _she pretended not to either. But there was no way that Esperanza would turn _Abuelo's _offer down because the park had so many better things to climb than boring old statues.

"She's wearing her Sunday dress," Mom complained. _Abuelo _looked down at her and met her eyes. His twinkled like when he was about to pull a trick on Mom.

"Anza, you won't get anything on your dress that won't wash off, will you?"

"Uh-un," she said.

"Hugo," Mom sighed turning towards her husband.

"He'll take care of her, Carmen, don't worry." Papi said.

"There," _Abuelo _said. Mom sighed. "Anza do you want a picky-back?"

"Yes please _Abuelo." _She said. The old man knelt down and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He got up.

"I'll bring her back home soon," he said. "Anza, say goodbye."

"Goodbye Mama. Bye Papi." She said.

_Abuelo _took her to the park and he chased her around the jungle gym until they were both laughing so hard their sides were aching. They went to get hot dogs at Bill's stand downtown and _Abuelo_ even brought her to the workshop even though nobody worked there on Sunday, and he showed her how to use all the machines again and even let her help him fix a little tiny engine problem, wrapping his hands around hers when she held tools. It was the best day ever.

Climbing the statue of the Virgin Mary was _so worth it. _


	28. Avengers

**So this one is going to be very cheesy. But it came to me, and now it goes to you. Also I am well aware that there are multiple Avengers and, like, thirty different generations of Avengers. But just let me use the movie ones so that I've got more people understanding this, okay comic book gods? Thank you!**

* * *

**The Avengers**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

"Who the hell are you?" Emily asked panting.

"No; you're the one carrying the ancient weaponry in the middle of Vancouver. Who the hell are _you?" _He replied.

"You're the one who's summoned by it and popped up here, it's not my fault you need an introduction." Emily said.

He didn't budge.

She sighed, frustrated. "Emily Zhang, not a demigod."

"Not-a-demigod's not a very Asian surname." He said.

"And neither is kickboxing but keep irritating me and that's how you're going down." Emily said.

"What are you then? A legacy?"

"Barely."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Care to give me a name?"

"We'll see."

The silence was stretching out and the air was so tense, Emily felt like something was going to snap in the universe.

"I'm blood of Pylos."

He froze in recognition and then nodded appreciatively. "So that's what happened to the line of Periclymenus…"

"Yes. Complete and utter perfection; now who the hell are you?" Emily asked.

He smiled at her and took off his sunglasses. Emily saw fire where irises and pupils should be.

"Mars Ultor, god of war." He declared as if that should be impressive.

"That means Mars the Avenger, right?" Emily asked amused.

"Right. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing, just a question. I have those all the time." She said, grinning to herself.

A few questions later this one came up on his behalf.

_Want to get some coffee?_

* * *

"Where are you off to?" Emily asked. "It isn't even late yet."

"Yeah, I know, but I have business back home." Mars said. "There's a problem. Again. With something else. Or maybe the same thing as last week- I don't even know what the council's doing with itself anymore. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"It's okay Thor." She said kissing his cheek. "Get yourself back to Asgard."

"I still don't understand half of what you say."

"For gods' sakes, pick up a comic book." She said.

* * *

"Alright Tony Stark, listen up…" Emily said.

"Tony Stark?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. Tony Stark is my favourite Avenger, you should be flattered."

"What the hell do the Avengers have to do with this?" Mars asked.

Emily crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the ground for a few seconds, waiting for him to get it.

"Zhang," he sighed when he finally got it.

* * *

He blocked her strike and managed to twist her arm, forcing her back. He used that second during which she was processing twenty things at once to trip her, and pin her down.

"See, Zhang? I'm a super soldier. You aren't going to beat me."

"Whatever you say." Emily said before stretching her neck up to kiss him. He put a hand on her back to hold her closer. As pleasant of a kiss as it was, Emily broke it to accomplish her original goal. She used the distraction to flip him over. She pinned him now, and a sense of pride swelled up inside her.

"Wow. I can beat up Captain America. I'm like Black Widow." She grinned, starring down at his frustrated and disappointed face.

* * *

"Gods, Emily, I'm not saying you're weak or anything you're just not unbreakable so quit going after all the monsters!" Mars said. "If something _happens _to you do you have any idea how…?"

"For the love of Jupiter, I sprained an ankle." Emily said. "It isn't the end of the world, Hulk."

Mars closed his eyes and ran a hand through his short hair.

"Am I really in that much of a pissy mood?"

"Well, I'm under a lot of pain medication and am feeling needy right now," Emily said. Her shoulder had just been dislocated by a Cyclops who'd literally picked her up and tried to rip it out of his socket. He probably would have succeeded if it wouldn't have been for her hidden party trick. "So yes."

"I'm sorry," he said sitting down on the couch next to her and gathering her in his arms. He allowed cuddling for the whole afternoon, which was nothing short of a miracle.

* * *

Emily slipped the key-necklace back into her shirt and pushed the attic's trapdoor open. She climbed up and flicked the lights on.

Mars climbed up and whistled.

"Impressive stock you Zhangs have."

"Stop trying to suck up," Emily said. "My family would kill me for letting an outsider see this."

"Even a god of war?"

"Especially a god of war, so unless you wish me a painful death, mums the word." Emily said. She noticed him observing a _dao; _a single-edged Chinese sword.

"Paws off Mars, that's from the Han Dynasty," Emily said. "Even I'm not allowed to use that one. Besides, it's out of context; we're just here to test your 'I can handle any weapon' theory."

"A _dao _is a weapon."

"Yeah, but you're a war god. You've used flashy and manly weapons like swords for ages. A _dao _can't possibly be out of your usual repertoire."

"So what are you going to throw at me?" Mars asked, hands in his pockets and leaning smugly against the wall.

Emily climbed on a bench and reached up to a shelf and dislodged a heavy leather bag, and the bow tied to it.

"I'm no archer," Mars said.

"Aha!" Emily said with a grin. "Even _I_ can shoot decently."

"Hey, when did I say I couldn't handle it?" Mars said defensively. "I just said it wasn't my usual weapon of choice."

"Your pride's going to be your downfall," Emily said shaking her head. "You can't just _not _use a weapon because it's 'cowardly' or whatnot."

"That's my armies' mentality, not me." Mars said.

"Oooh, your armies," Emily said sarcastically.

"Say what you want, but the Romans were badass."

"Yes I know," Emily said. "And so were their _archers." _She said handing him the bow and quiver. "There's a target on that wall over there- nail it."

He draped the quiver over his shoulder, notched an arrow and took his aim. He was frozen forever, just holding the arrow poised.

"Hesitant, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Zhang," he said. He let go of the arrow and it hit the target in the red zones next to the bulls-eye.

"Aww," Emily said mocking his fine shot. "Not quite."

"You're insane," Mars said looking at her.

"Am I?"

She snatched the bow from him and took an arrow from his quiver. Two seconds later an arrow was in the bulls-eye.

"I win the bet, Hawk Eye" she said with a smile.


	29. Bath

**There might be a missing space bar here, DocManager has decided it hates me again. Sorry if so.**

* * *

**Baths **

**In the style of Thalia and Jason Grace and Annabeth Chase**

"Jason, you're smelly." She said.

He looked up at her and shook his head adamantly, holding on to his toy train tightly.

"Oh no? Well what do you think you smell like?"

"Flowers," Jason replied. Thalia stifled a laugh.

"Definitely not. Look Jacey, baths aren't so bad."

He crinkled his nose, and she couldn't completely blame him. She hated the water too, but Jason was taking it to the next level. It was like he was _afraid_ of water, not just mistrustful. She understood a hatred of pools and rivers, lakes and ponds and oceans because she had it too. But Thalia knew that bathwater wasn't enough to get Poseidon's toga in a twist, and that Jason was just being difficult. Mom would have caved in to that nose crinkle–like she had all week- but Thalia was adamant. She didn't want the daycare to think that Jason was being neglected. That way they could avoid foster homes and drama. Also because Thalia was too prideful to ever stop taking care of her little brother.

"They're not," Thalia insisted. "And guess what I got…"

She was pulling out her secret weapon- her last resort. Fingers crossed, she pulled out the bad of skittles she'd picked up at the corner store on her way from school. Jason's eyes were wide and mesmerised.

"If you take a bath, I'll let you have some." Thalia said.

"All?" Jason tried.

"No, then you'll have to brush your teeth twice a day and that's a battle for another time. You can have _some." _She said.

Jason pondered it, but he was essentially a slave to his sweet tooth.

"Okay. Bath time." He said.

Never had Thalia Grace felt more accomplished.

* * *

"Well…" Luke said. "I'll leave you two girls in this room and I'll be two doors over. Come get me when you finish whatever it is."

He tossed Thalia the keys for the particular room they were in.

"Shower and get dressed?" Annabeth asked. It was what they'd told her the stolen motel rooms were for, after all.

"Right," Luke said. "Later," he told Thalia before making himself scarce.

"Well, kiddo, you can go first." Thalia said putting a hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "Careful not to touch the real occupant's stuff too much."

"Okay." Annabeth said. "It's just that…"

"What is it, Annabeth?" She asked.

"If I wash my hair on my own I get shampoo in my eyes and it really hurts."

"Well we don't want that, now do we?" Thalia said.

"You'll help me? Can you?"

"I can most certainly help you with that. You can just bend over the tub, I'll wash your hair, and you can shower on your own right after. Sounds like a plan?"

Annabeth nodded and skipped over to the bathroom, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. Thalia's own hair was scratchy enough as it was, she couldn't imagine having curls like Annabeth's just as dirty.

"We don't want your clothes getting wet, it's chilly out there." Thalia said following her into the bathroom and flicking the lights on. The panel with the switches was too high for Annabeth to reach. She spotted a bathrobe on a shelf and pulled it out. "Let's wrap you up."

"Like a Christmas present," Annabeth said, sticking both arms out like a cross so that Thalia could drape the robe over her.

"You are one awesome Christmas present," she said poking Annabeth's nose.


	30. Words

**Yeay! I've decided that everything I hit a 'ten' mark (10, 20, 30, 40, 50) I'm going to make my chapter special, so hopefully this is satisfying. **

* * *

**Words**

**In the style of Various**

What did you give tired, somewhat pissed-off and completely worn out heroes as a reward? There had to be something, but the 'what' was always the question.

In this case the 'what' was easy. 'How' was harder. Enough rules of life and death, right and wrong and the universe's general functioning had been annihilated and crushed during the last week. But if there was one thing gods were good at, it was at sneaking around rules and fate and destiny. So that was how Emily Zhang and Esperanza Valdez were holding their sons in the throne room of the gods. Or so Piper figured.

Emily had to stand on her toes to be anywhere near Frank's height. Her hands were on his cheeks and she was examining his face, his arms, his legs trying to see if he was hurt from the final battle or trying to figure out where all these muscles had come from.

Esperanza held him no problem, Leo barely reached her shoulders. He just closed his eyes against her chest and let her rock him. She played with his hair and peppered his forehead with kisses when she happened to brush it clear.

"Mom, god," Leo said shutting his eyes. She put a hand in front of his lips and shook her head.

"Don't you worry about it, _mijo. _Don't you even dare worrying about it."

"Careful," Pluto said. The god of death stood.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Frank asked.

"We can't… They can't be _fully _present or else we break a few rules that the last few months have been all about reinstating."

"So?" Percy asked. The rest of the seven watched anxiously.

"So they're missing something," Annabeth deduced.

Emily nodded vigorously and she put her fingers on her lips.

"Can't talk?" Frank asked.

"You can," Pluto said. "Somewhat. But there's a quota of words."

"Care to share said quota?" Leo muttered.

"The number of months for which they've been dead," Pluto said.

"69," Leo said way too quickly for anyone to feel at ease.

"Four," Frank said hoarsely. Emily ran her hand through his hair, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

Esperanza sighed and opened her mouth.

"Listen closely because I can't say this twice. Leo you are my son, I love you, and there has never have been anything else. I love you so much, but don't take the world on your shoulders. What happened to me wasn't your fault."

Leo shook his head and wiped the corners of his eyes.

Esperanza put her hand on his chin and tilted his head up.

"I swear. Move on."

"I tried Mom," Leo said. "But it's hard to leave you behind."

Esperanza shook her head.

"Won't happen. Build me something good. Okay, _mijo?"_

Leo's throat seemed to clog up. He was seeing his mother again, it had been a long and draining day, he was being reassured that his ghosts were mere poltergeists by someone whose authority on the subject he could respect and for the second time in his life he was hearing his mother's voice for the last time.

Piper was blinking back tears herself, and there wasn't any face that wasn't solemn.

"You should see the Argo II," Leo finally said. "You'd love it, Mom."

Esperanza nodded. She'd run out of words.

Leo's hands got at it again, rubbing the corners of his eyes. His breath was choppy.

"You'd love the way the engine works, you always said that gas was a bad idea. And you will _never _guess was the wires are made out of."

Esperanza's eyebrows scrunched up, like she was thinking.

Leo laughed a bit. "Don't even try Mom, you just won't. Some of the tools they've got in the forges… You'd have loved them. And the… the mast head… Gods, I wish I could show you."

Esperanza opened up her arms and gave Leo a hug. She patted him on the back. If it weren't for late night confessions in the forge, nobody would have recognised it as the Morse code it really was.

Piper's heart tightened a bit. What was Esperanza telling Leo? I love you? Stay strong?

Eyes shifted towards Emily Zhang. Her eyes were mournful, and the precision with which she'd had to pick her words was like an ache. Did that make real life an ache? No, of course not. Words were just spat out regularly and infinitely in real life. There was no care in them.

She took Frank's hands.

"Sorry," she said giving him a pointed look. She put a hand on the patch on her uniform's arm, the Canadian flag.

Frank shook his head. "Don't Mom. I get it."

Emily gave him a look.

"Okay, _now _I get it. Not before, but now I do." Frank said. "It wasn't just your job, it was your duty. You had to do it, just like I'd have had to jump on a bomb if it fell in the middle of this throne room and would just blow up these guys," he said nudging his head towards the others who'd sailed in the Argo II. "You saved a bunch of people too."

Emily's eyes didn't change. It was for the times that he hadn't understood that she was sorry, and even now that he understood because of the things he'd had to go through to get it.

"Proud," Emily said holding his hand. She touched the Centurion medal on his chest, the bandage on his arm and his cheek again to show what exactly she was proud of.

Frank didn't say anything.

"Love you." She said with a small, sad and hopeful smile.

"Love you too, Mom." Frank said hugging her again. For a while it was just frozen hugs in the middle of the throne room. Hair was ruffled one last time before they had to be taken back to the underworld.

From that day on if you were to find a demigod using words unjustly, saying too much or too little, saying things that were not meant, or that didn't have to be said: you knew that they had not been on the Argo II, nor had they been in that throne room.


	31. Boo

**This has no purpose but it popped up in my head and I'll be cursing myself on my death bed if I don't post it, so ta-dah!**

* * *

**Boo**

**In the style of Sally Jackson and Poseidon**

"Boo," someone behind her said.

Ripped out of her world (or rather the world of Francis Hodgson Burnett), Sally was so surprised that she dropped the book that she'd been reading. Unfortunately that was pretty bad since she was sitting in the shallow sea, away from the beaches where most people were tanning and away from the deep-ish parts where people were splashing.

Poseidon picked it up and all of the water dripped back into the ocean right away. He handed Sally a perfectly dry book.

"Oh, thank you!" She said. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost it- it's _signed!" _

"Oh Gods, the humanity." Poseidon gasped, sitting down next to her.

"You're laughing at me," Sally said smacking him in the arm. He put his arm around her.

"Of course I am, you're endearing," he replied.


	32. Resemblance

**Things I don't think the PJO fandom has thought of, number 256. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Resemblance **

**In the style of Nico di Angelo and Hades**

When Nico rose to his feet in the throne room he got up and shot Persephone a disgusted look instead of bowing to her as well. Persephone clucked her tongue.

"A _dandelion?" _Hades asked looking at her.

Persephone turned her head without a single line on her face changing. Hades sighed.

People –mortals, demigods and gods alike, he knew it- always wondered why he was one of the gods less known for infidelity if he was so powerful and present in society. _This _was why. Because cheating and having kids just stirred up too much trouble. You'd think Zeus would have figured it out too.

On this one particular fight however, Hades was siding with his son. It wasn't even Nico's fault, really- the tame hellhound pups had startled him and he'd drawn his sword. And he hadn't done anything wrong from where Hades stood: he'd never say it out loud, but he was actually happy (and impressed) with Nico since he hated Persephone's stupid little pets and slaying them was no easy feat.

"Persephone, you can't turn Nico into a dandelion." Hades repeated.

"I was grounding him."

"You didn't have to do it with roots," Hades said. "If he's being sassy with you, let me handle it."

Persephone didn't say a word.

"Please?"

She sighed and nodded before disappearing back to her gardens, without a doubt.

Nico kept his dark eyes on her as if to burn a hole through her throne.

* * *

Maria took his hand graciously as he escorted her away from the office where she worked as secretary to the Italian ambassador to the United States; two hours later than the usual plan had dictated thanks to piles of paperwork associated with an upcoming visit to Washington.

"Miss di Angelo, another thing-"

Maria spun around, her curls bouncing off her shoulders. She shot her boss a look to burn down his will to exist.

He swallowed.

"Have an excellent night," he said courteously. "Good day, sir."

Hades had nodded and walked out of the embassy with Maria at his arm, biting on his lips to try and suppress a smile.

"Well behaved women barely make history," Maria said. "I don't need manners. Don't give me that look, you."

"I'm not giving you a look. You're just funny."

"I'm glad to hear it. _Thrilled, _in fact."

"You should really get promoted," he said. "I mean, you could probably stop the trouble in Europe in a matter of seconds. 'Germany, say what?' 'No, no England _what the hell_ are you even thinking?'"

"I'd tell you to go share that sentiment with my boss but we're wasting daylight, love." Maria said with a smile. "Let's go."

* * *

He smiled for the split smile before he recognised the glare.

"Stand up straight," Hades told Nico. It came out snappy. "And try to polish up your manners."

"Yes sir."


	33. Genevieve II

**So I'm going to be gone for a big part of next week and I'm not sure if I'll be able to post, so just in case...**

* * *

**Genevieve II**

**In the style of Percy and Sally Jackson**

Sally put a hand on Percy's arm.

"We only just found out before Christmas," she said. "We never got a chance to tell you Percy, and we asked Annabeth not to…"

"Whoa" as the only thing he could say. He looked shell shocked, and Sally took his hand.

"Come on," she said before dragging Percy towards the stroller. Genevieve was sleeping despite the commotion, and she showed no sign of waking up anytime soon. This skill would surely be very helpful with a demigod as a brother.

Percy looked down into the stroller and Sally immediately felt guilty. He was right in front of her, dehydrated, undernourished, fatigued, and victorious… and she was just showing him another baby.

"There are two of you now," Sally said. "I think the world can handle it."

Percy smiled briefly to acknowledge her attempt at a joke. He gingerly held out his hand and touched her tiny hand with his fingertips. It woke up the little girl, and Sally picked up Genevieve right away to avoid a fit. That would be _disastrous._

For a second Percy looked at her as if she were an alien. He looked at her like _whoa, what is this? What do you do with this? What is it's purpose? Does it bite? _He hesitated for a second before taking hold of her tiny hand between his fingertips. Her fingers were curling and uncurling.

"What's her name?" Percy asked.

"Genevieve," Sally said.

"Does she have a middle name?" Percy asked.

"Genevieve Charlotte Blofis," Sally answered softly.

Percy studied the little girl again. His face was emotionless and scary.

"Not bad for a kid who didn't have a big brother to veto names," he finally said.

Sally had never hugged anyone more tightly.


	34. Bike

**So I'm going to be gone for a big part of next week and I'm not sure if I'll be able to post, so I'll just keep posting. **

* * *

**Bike**

**In the style of Thalia Grace and Jupiter **

**For _Guest_**

Thalia limped back to the front door and managed to open it.

"Mom," she called limping through the threshold and grimacing. Her eyes were close to tears.

Mom walked out of her office holding Jason in her arms, Zeus standing at a distance, behind her.

"Thalia what did you do!" Mother exclaimed. She shoved Jason in Zeus' arms and came to examine her knee.

"I flipped my bike on the driveway and now there's a rock in my knee and it's bleeding everywhere," she complained. "It burns."

"Thalia Marie, what do I always tell you about that driveway? You'd kill yourself on it if you had a lick of sense less- your bike is for going _to _school. Oh god, now there's blood everywhere…" her mother fussed.

Zeus walked up and put Jason back in Mom's arms. He knelt in front of Thalia and after a second he slipped an arm under hers to help her walk.

"Come on, it's not as bad as it looks- promise." He said.

He sat her down on the bathroom counter and her knee stretched out over a sink.

"It's not very deep," he said rubbing her back and reaching into the medicine cabinet with his spare hand.

"What are you going to do?" Thalia asked, somewhat terrified.

"Take the rock out and disinfect your cut," he said.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Probably a little bit, but leaving the rock in would be worst. May I?"

Thalia nodded. She wanted help.

Zeus used Mom's tweezers to take the rock out. Thalia squeezed his hand while he did because it hurt a lot, but he made it quick. He showed her how big it was and told her that she'd toughed through a big one.

He explained that the liquid he'd pour on the kleenex and clean her knee with, the antiseptic, would sting, but it'd make sure that she didn't get an infection which would hurt twelve times more. She tried not to make a sound while he did it, because he'd explained how important it was an she believed him. Zeus rubbed her back which made her feel a lot better. He put the bandage on top and plopped her off the counter and on the floor.

"It'll hurt a bit to walk, but you're going to be fine." He said lifting her back down.

"Thank you Dad," Thalia said. She froze. That was the first time she'd called him Dad.

He smiled slightly, messed up her hair and went to go take Jason again.

* * *

Years later it nearly disgusted Thalia how a man who wasn't even technically her real father had been more tender, more caring, and more of a parent to her than the woman who'd raised her.


	35. Home Economics

**So this is a different take on a lot of things. For starters, it's not exactly parents. Also I haven't written much for these characters before, and I think it's a take on one of them that we don't often take. Anyways, here's your chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Reyna and Hylla or the world of Percy Jackson.**

* * *

**Home Economics **

**In the style of Hylla and Reyna **

Hylla was exhausting herself trying to stay awake. There was nothing she cared less about than how to knit. Well, maybe how to 'properly store cleaning products'. But knitting was definitely in her top three. Unfortunately both of those things either had been or were being covered in this class.

As the teacher, a wrinkly old prune of a woman named Ms. Abasolo, demonstrated whatever cable knitting was in front of the class, Hylla doodled before she accidentally turned into the incredible Hulk and created a death count. Seriously, she had knitting needles and yarn right in front of her. She wouldn't even have to be that creative.

The corners of her instructions sheet were covered in little stickmen, tiny tanks, small planets, Martian spaceships, bugs and spirals.

"Hylla, let me see what you've done so far." Ms. Abasolo said.

Hylla jumped.

"Umm…" she grabbed her sewing needles from her table and held up the little square of yarn that stuck down.

Ms. Abasolo looked disappointed with the sheer size, but once she saw how many stitches Hylla had dropped she just looked angry.

"Dear, why don't you start spending your lunch hours with me so we can catch up?"

"I'm in the soccer team, Miss. Practices are at lunch mostly."

"Well that can be arranged, dear." Ms. Abasolo said.

Hylla knew she'd gone too far.

* * *

Hylla had gotten used to spending her lunch hours in the home ec class- one lined with cooking stations including ovens and counters and sinks, with boxes of yarn and thread and needles in a corner and sowing machines stuck in their boxes.

That didn't mean she liked it and wasn't really angry whenever she walked by the cafeteria- watching her friends settling down at a table inside.

She sat down at the usual table and picked up her sewing needles.

* * *

Hylla lost her temper. She kicked the ball of yarn away and dropped her needles.

"Ma'am, I don't want to offend you, but I don't care about anything in this class." She said.

"Is that so?" Ms. Abasolo asked. "Tell me, Hylla, don't you have plans one day to have a job and own a home? Have kids, get married?"

"No." Hylla said.

"Really?" Ms. Abasolo said. "Because it'll probably happen. And getting a job and managing a household- that's bound to happen."

"I don't know ma'am, I can be pretty creative..."

"Enough," Ms. Abasolo said. "Pick up your needles and try again."

* * *

They were in a whole new unit now, and although Hylla knew everything being taught she couldn't pay attention in class, and thus was still wasting her lunches with Ms. Abasolo.

It frustrated her. Reading was hard and her focus was always spread out in twenty different places, but that didn't mean she had to waste her time. She could ace any test on his childhood unit any day, given that she didn't mess up her spelling too badly and loose a million points.

Ms. Abasolo spread out her flashcards on child development in front of Hylla.

"I want you to associate the milestones in child development with the age at which they occured."

Hylla took a bite out of her sandwich, put it down and shifted the cards around.

"Done," she said after about ten seconds.

Ms. Abasolo put down her thermos of leftovers and checked the cards.

"Excellent," she said. "But you switched talking and walking. Talking comes first, generally at six months most children start."

"No, walking's first."

"No dear, that's at about eight months."

"It wasn't like that for my little sister," Hylla said.

"You have a little sister?" Ms. Abasolo asked.

"Yes. She could walk ages before she could talk. She was, like, five months old."

"That's very early."

"She hasn't stopped running around since," Hylla said.

"What's her name?" Ms. Abasolo asked.

"Reyna."

"How old is Reyna?"

"Four," Hylla said. "Five in April."

"She's at her cutest," Ms. Abasolo said with a chuckle.

"She'll always be cute," Hylla said defensively.

"Oh, of course. Does she go to daycare or stay at home with your mother?"

Hylla bit the inside of her cheek and looked through her archive of harsh comebacks for a second, before her anger deflated. It wasn't Ms. Abasolo's fault; she was asking a fair question. Their father was a soldier who served in the city, so clearly that left the two options…

"Daycare," Hylla said. "Our mom's not around."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up then," Ms. Abasolo said. "Unless you want to talk about it."

"Nope," Hylla said. "I've already settled my case with her."

_I don't like her and she's a disgusting person. Case closed._

"Good. That's healthy as long as you don't let it sink itself in stone." Ms. Abasolo said. "I imagine that you remember seeing Reyna grow up, you're old enough."

"Yes."

"Well then we don't need to go over this," Ms. Abasolo said waving her hand at the flashcards.

Hylla's heart stopped. No. It couldn't be. Her luck could definitely not be this good…

"We can give you a head start on the next unit," Ms. Abasolo said. "Cooking."

Of course.

* * *

"Only pour the pasta in when the water's boiling," Ms. Abasolo chided, fishing out the noodles with a ladle.

Hylla sighed and leaned against the counter.

"Ms. Abasolo, no offence, but I still _don't care _about home ec," Hylla said. "Like, not in the slightest. Nothing in this class interests me except the credit I need to graduate."

"Oh, I know." She said.

"Well then why am I here?" Hylla asked.

"Because everything you learn in this class is important," Ms. Abasolo said. "Cooking, cleaning, fixing things, keeping a house… It'll all serve you one day. If you want to have kids…"

"No."

"If you want to have a nice house…"

"Not particularly either."

"Still? Well, you never know where life takes you Hylla," Ms. Abasolo said, "Which is why I insist that you learn it so much."

* * *

Hylla held onto Reyna, holding her at her hip. Reyna's head was plopped against Hylla's shoulder and she was trying not to doze off, despite her exhaustion. Hylla would pat her on the head and comb her fingers through her hair and tell her to sleep, but Reyna wanted to know what was going on.

Circe opened the door to the small villa and let Reyna in.

"This is what your line of work would provide. A bed for you and your sister, meals at regular time every day, full access to our healers for both dental and medical plans, generous life insurance…"

Reyna snuggled up to Hylla's shoulder. That was enough to make Hylla care about insurance and mortgages- hell, even calculus.

House - roof - food; this sounded okay.

"I'll do it," Hylla said. "Whatever it is."

* * *

She was looking at the full kitchen cabinets like _screw it. _

There were all kinds of food, just like there were in the fridge. Sure they were freaky super-healthy and glucose free alternatives to normal food, but hey. Food was food. The biggest problem Hylla had was that she'd have to _make _it.

She finally found something familiar looking- pasta.

Pasta, and there was low-fat cheese in the fridge.

She could do this.

"Alright Rey, want to come help me set the table for supper?" Hylla called out.

* * *

Reyna's toys were everywhere. She didn't have many of them, most of them had been made right on the island as a matter of fact, but dear God did she know how to stretch them out into a big mess.

Hylla bit her lip. Usually they lined them up against the wall of her bedroom, but that wasn't going to work anymore.

Then she remembered that there was a leaky mop bucket that the other girls had thrown away. It was leaky, but it didn't have any big cracks. It had wheels on it, so Reyna would be able to drag it around everywhere… With some paper Reyna could colour on and some tape she could beg to Circe for, she could easily make a toy chest and...

Holly smokes, she was decorating.

* * *

Reyna plopped down on a couch, her feet hanging over the edge.

"That took _forever,_" she complained.

"Got lost?" Hylla asked. Reyna wouldn't get lost going to the new neighbor's house of course, but she would definitely get side-tracked. If there were a purpose to it, Hylla was sure that Reyna could go out and get an ADHD diagnosis.

"Funny," Reyna said. "No, they were just really excited about having moved to the island. They talked for ages and ages."

"About what?" Hylla asked. "They just got here."

"About their couch," Reyna said. "You think I'm kidding but the sad thing is that I'm not. I really don't care about the pattern of your couch; I was just dropping off muffins!"

She slammed her face into a pillow, frustrated that now she couldn't even go run around outside because she'd wasted her shift off work doing this.

"Honestly, if there's ever a time in my life when I care about my couch pattern, please just shoot me."

Hylla just looked down at the fruits she was chopping.

She was young and restless, it was normal that she didn't understand. She didn't understand the pride that came in owning a house and making it work, and orchestrating cooking and cleaning and work and maintenance and keeping it all balanced together. For now it just looked like work and coquetry to her. She didn't know how horrible it felt when you couldn't do any of those things, because she'd been so young that one time that Hylla hadn't been able to do all those things.

An arm wrapped around her waist.

"But they offered me a muffin and they were really good." Reyna said.

"Glad to hear it," Hylla said fluffing her sister's hair with her free hand.

She didn't understand the pride that came in making everything work out.


	36. Diplomatic

**Swear word warning, I hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

**Diplomatic**

**In the style of Maria di Angelo**

The men all looked to and from each other in total panic and confusion. Even with their expensive suits, suave modern haircuts and shiny shoes, they didn't look very smart now.

They looked at her resume trying to find something wrong with it. Maria had made sure to keep it spotless precisely for this moment. She had a good record with the police, a lot of experience, a lot of education, and she volunteered a lot to top it off. She was freaking perfect as far as these guys were concerned.

They closed the folder and starred at each other until one of them was designated to talk to her.

"Miss di Angelo this is a demanding job, are you sure that as a woman..?"

"You missed work yesterday because you had a cold, am I correct? You were talking about it on your way in. How fragile do I seem now?" Maria asked.

"Anyhow," he said trying to disregard the argument she'd just killed, "This job is demanding intellectually."

"Sir I have a degree in world politics and another in European history. I was raised in embassies. I am very qualified for this position intellectually_." _Maria said.

The interviewers turned to each other. She could nearly feel panic in the air.

"Miss di Angelo, you do understand that this field is very serious, very strict. And a female ambassador…"

"I'm not applying for the position of ambassador; I am applying for a position as assistant to the ambassador. His secretary is a woman; surely this isn't such a wild leap." Maria cut.

"An assistant is much more prominent on the international stage," he replied. "This field is a man's world."

"Well, to use an argument I've heard you apply in other debates; Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." Maria said.

They looked at each other like: _shit she found the Bible and brought it into this. Act cool, act cool…_

One stood up and starred down at Maria when she spoke. "You start on Monday at 8:30 AM and if you're so much as a minute late it's over."

Maria grinned. If you were pigheaded and bold enough for it, any job could be yours in this world. It was just exceedingly difficult.

"And a good day to you, sir."


	37. Territory

**Apology chapter for the people who skip chapters with swear words in them. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Territory**

**In the style of Tristan and Piper McLean**

**For Percabeth2074**

* * *

_Dearest Tristan,_

_I had to leave. You wouldn't understand. Please don't look; you won't find me and you'll lose yourself._

_Amelia_

* * *

He scrunched up the note in his hand, furious.

Then, as he'd done since waking up, he unfolded it gently and reread it again. He tried to see if there was a 'just kidding' written in minuscule letters somewhere. He tried to tell herself that it wasn't her elegant script- like the calligraphy of a medieval textbook- that he was seeing.

Piper started crying and for the first time he realised how alone he'd be every time she would do that from this point on. He'd never be able to ask for tips, or hand her over to answer the phone or the door...

He snapped himself out of it. He'd kick-start his brain and figure this out later, right now Piper was crying and she needed him.

* * *

He lied her down in her crib for the night, and she fell asleep nearly immediately. She got that from her mother.

That brought all the horrible memories and daunting realisations back. Tristan leaned against the opposite wall, suddenly at loss.

Sitting with a girl as she cried over a boy is Mom Territory.

Being there and explaining all the weird steps of growing up is Mom Territory.

Arguing about what clothes she'd walk out of her house with is Mom Territory.

None of these things Tristan had any idea how to do, and he wasn't sure how in the world he was supposed to learn or be able to achieve all of these. What the hell was he going to do? How was he going to manage struggling for work _and _raising a baby girl on his own? How did he ask for help? How did he get it? How did he explain where Amelia was when all he'd gotten was that stupid and brief note that didn't explain anything?

Anger flared. She could have told him in person. Said goodbye instead of just curling up against him last night and leaving sometime during the night. Her things weren't even in the apartment; he didn't have a contact address. If anything happened to Piper, she would never find out, and if anything happened to her Tristan wouldn't know either. What had she been _thinking? _Had Tristan done something wrong? Had he not been good enough to her?

Piper cooed, like she was humming to herself in her sleep.

He walked closer.

She was on her back, like he'd been told babies should sleep to be safe. Her fingers were closed around a tiny stuffed animal of what he assumed was a made-up cutesy monster with a big upturned mouth and striped legs. She was kicking a bit in her sleep. Her wispy black hair was squished against her head.

It was that kind of innocence and realisation of _gosh, she's mine _that made him decide in a split-second that he would make it work somehow, that he'd figure it out one way or the other, and that he'd eventually get it right.

No matter why in the world he was stuck doing it on his own.

It was also that kind of anger that made anyone stop loving a person all of a sudden.


	38. Camping

**Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Rick Riordan or its characters.**

* * *

**Camping **

**In the style of Nico di Angelo and Hades**

**For DerangedOtakuFangirl, based on her prompt: 'Nico camping out by Styx and Hades finding him'**

* * *

"My Lord," the fury said as soon as she burst into the throne room.

"Yes, Tisiphone?" He asked straightening up and recognising the monster's crude features.

"There is an intruder in the Underworld."

Hades frowned. "Surely not. I have not sensed any disturbances and no guards have reported anything."

"Well, my Lord, he's meant to be here."

Hades froze. "He..?"

There was only one person that could be.

He got up.

"Do excuse me, Persephone," he said inclining his head in her direction. "I will be back shortly."

* * *

The air around Nico grew warmer, which said a lot because the air pressure in the Underworld was cold. Not uncomfortably so, but the warmth was comforting- like when Bianca put another blanket on top of him as he slept. He let go of his knees and looked around. That's when he saw the man in black robes.

"I'm sorry," he said right away, "I know I don't have like, permission to be here –do I need permission? Is there like a form to fill out? – but I didn't know where to go and the shadows just came and grabbed me and- and-"

"Nico," he said. "That's what you go by, yes?"

Nico didn't know what to say or do. What else was he supposed to call himself? Had he had a choice at somepoint? Could he have picked something cooler? Had Bianca named him?

He just nodded.

"You're Hades," Nico said.

"Indeed." The god glanced at the tiny fire Nico had managed to start, and at the river Styx.

"And you are my son. I assume you know this." Hades said. "Or else I hope you have enough of a brain to have figured it out."

Nico nodded.

"Good," Hades said. "Camping by the river Styx is no place for you. Come with me."

He waved his hand and Nico's tiny fire went out. Nico frowned- it had taken forever to start it. A few souls had told him that it was impossible to start a fire in Hades.

"Where?" He asked.

"To the palace," Hades said. "It's much more comfortable."

Nico uncurled from his balled-up position and got up. He looked at the man for a few seconds, trying to figure out how he could possibly be his son.

"Are you going to stare, or are you going to come with me?" Hades said.

"Come, sir." Nico said his military school instincts popping up again.

* * *

Nico's stomach was full. Food came to Hades' palace like it did to Camp Half-Blood, but the plates were onyx black with little shards of diamonds and crystals near the edge. He'd eaten five hot-dogs and a handful of Doritos and a lot of orange juice. He would've taken coke, but Bianca wouldn't have wanted him to eat something so sugary and with caffeine before going to bed. He even took the healthy kind of juice with pulp. For some reason it was okay to disobey his sister when she was alive, but when she was dead it just felt like cheating.

In the same line of thought he ate some carrot sticks.

"I assume that this room is good enough for the night," Hades said holding the door open. Nico looked inside. His own _room? _Wow, he'd never had that before. Sure, it was a little gloomy and there wasn't enough light coming in, but it still looked cool.

Nico nodded.

"Sir what do you mean 'for the night'? Are you going to make me go back to Camp Half-Blood later?" Nico asked in dread. No. He didn't want that. He didn't want to be anywhere near Percy again. Percy had broken his oath and Nico wanted to… to kill him. He didn't want to sleep on the floor of Cabin Eleven and he didn't want everyone to freak out because he was a son of Hades.

"No," Hades said. His face was hard. "I would never do that to you. You are free to go if you like, but I know that your welcome there would be… glacial. Small as you are, you deserve better."

Nico cocked his head and looked at him.

"Well, go in. I don't have all night." The god said, suddenly gruff again.

Nico obeyed.

"Goodnight," Hades said. He shut the door before Nico could reply.

* * *

Hades looked through the window.

"What are you looking at?" Persephone asked grumpily.

"Nico's back," he said. Which, of course, explained his wife's mood. She must have spotted him already.

"Good, I can turn him into coriander." Persephone muttered under her breath. He let that fly. "Where is he anyways?"

"Camping on the banks of the Styx," Hades said. "Something's bothering him, then."

"Good," she muttered under her breath.

"You'll have to finish supper without me, dear." Hades said getting up.

* * *

Someone sat down next to Nico. He nearly fell into the Styx when he realised with a start that it was Hades.

"What's gone wrong in your little world?" Hades asked.

"Nothing," Nico muttered.

"Nothing doesn't usually have you camping out on the banks of the River Styx," Hades said. "Is it something about the battle at Camp Half-Blood earlier in the month?"

"No," Nico said gruffly. "I don't care for Camp."

"Suit yourself," Hades said getting up. "But something's bothering you Nico. Whether it's Camp Half-Blood, Bianca, Minos or the fact that Percy Jackson is still alive; just know that it's all for the better in the scheme of things."

"I don't care about the scheme of things. I'm _me."_

"Admirable self-preservation instincts," Hades commented, "But it's impossible to go far in life if you're the only one in the world still alive."

Nico didn't reply, he just balled up and starred out at the Styx.

* * *

The War with Gaia had left the Underworld in a mess. Up was down and left was right and the guards seemed to have forgotten how to do their jobs. Hades and the other gods of death were overworked and busy night and day, but not too much so not to notice Nico, sitting on the banks of the River Styx _again._

"For the love of the fates," Persephone huffed. "What is he upset about _now?" _

"This is the most devastating war in demigod history," Hades said. "Nearly half of the claimed demigods who are either legionnaires or campers are dead, most of the unclaimed have been killed by loose monsters, and there are still legionnaires and heroes dying of their injuries. It could be anything. I should go…"

He looked out the window some more, trying to pinpoint how to talk to his son once again.

Suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows and sat next to him, the Underworld's floor paving itself to gold under her feet.

She sat down next to him and cuddled, her head on his shoulder. Only one person could get away with that.

"On second thought," Hades said. "I think he'll be okay."


	39. Lost at Sea

**Hi! I'm not sure if I like this chapter, so I'm posting it with another. you guys just let me know how it is.**

* * *

**Lost at Sea**

**In the style of Sally Jackson and Poseidon**

Miranda was completely lost in the world and unfocused when she knocked on Sally's door. Her friend answered, hair pinned up haphazardly, blouse buttoned wrong like she'd had to suddenly change because of baby excrements/throw-up/spit, and aforementioned baby in her arms.

"Can I crash here?" She asked, totally helpless.

"Umm… sure," Sally said right away. "But the baby's going to scream all night. He's in that kind of mood."

"Percy's a cutie, it'll be okay." Miranda said.

Sally closed the door behind her.

"You don't look so good, and you're dragging a bag." Sally said readjusting her grip on Percy. He cooed. "Are you alright?"

"I had a fight with Dylan," Miranda said dropping on a couch and burying her head in her hands. "I think this is it."

"Oh, sweetie…" Sally said putting a hand on her shoulder. She hesitated. "Maybe it's for the best. I mean, this on again/off again isn't healthy and it's been going on since the tenth grade."

"Maybe," Miranda agreed.

Karen peeped from the bathroom. She was staying with Sally heart-of-gold Jackson while her plumbing was redone. "Anda..?"

"Dylan," Sally filled in.

"Ah," she said coming out further. "I think there's ice cream in the fridge, it can..."

"No need, I'm not upset." Miranda said. "I just wanted a place to escape. Screaming… is tiring."

"Yes," Karen agreed. She grabbed the phone.

"Who are you calling?" Sally asked as Percy cooed some more.

"Juliet. Might as well have her over too," Karen said.

"I don't have enough food guys," Sally said. Percy started screaming his head off again.

"Ooh," Miranda said. "Well, guess I got a fair warning."

Sally shot her a look, and then walked off bobbing Percy up and down. He didn't stop. She tried burping him and singing and everything that any of them could think of. They tried to help out, but Percy just wailed and wailed and wailed –even more when someone other than Sally held him- and as he did Miranda noticed the rings under Sally's eyes more and more.

"That's it," Sally said walking over to the bathroom.

"What is she… doing?" Miranda asked.

"Bathtub," Karen asked. "He likes water. He's a special one."

"Unsurprising," Miranda shrugged. "His dad though… that was one smoking _hot _piece of mancake."

"Please don't ever say that in front of Sally she'll be scarred," Karen said shaking her head. Her eyes were right in front of her.

The door opened and Juliet, who felt free to let herself in anywhere, came in.

"I was just at a bar and- ooh, should've stayed." She winced when she heard the wailing.

"Sally's working magic; he'll stop wailing any minute now." Karen said.

And sure enough he did.

"Is she drugging him?" Juliet asked.

"O-kay, someone is _clearly _coming home from the bar." Miranda said. Juliet sat down next to her.

"I feel so bad," Karen said pushing her hair behind her ear. "I mean, I've tried to help out while I'm here, but with uni and everything? None of us have time and she's alone and Percy's a picky child and we're no good at this, we're not like a father…"

"I swear, he better be lost at sea like she thinks he is, because if he's somewhere out there and she's here alone with the baby…" Miranda said shaking her head.

Juliet said, "I know that this might be crazy because he probably doesn't even know there was a baby… but I'm kind of _mad _that Sally's handling this alone."

"Oh I'm pissed too."

"Yup," Miranda said.

"But at the same time… not really." Juliet said.

"Explain," Karen demanded. "Unless it's the alcohol talking, because if so Miranda can just sleep on the floor and you can take the couch."

"I mean… when's the last time we've seen Sally as happy as she was this summer?"

They didn't have an answer.

"I know that she's just a crazy hard worker, but I really think that after all that work she did to get to NYU in high school and then having to drop out… I think she just needed to be happy again, and he did that for her. And she _is _happy with Percy, right? It's hard, but she loves him."

They didn't say anything, because in a weird, twisted way it was true.

"Especially when he doesn't cry," Karen finally piped up.


	40. Old Bird

**Hello readers and people who are lost! I have three short messages before I give you chapter 40 which I'm really excited to give you guys!**

**1) I am sorry that I didn't answer most reviews. I was out of town. However I read and loved them all, thank you tons!**

**2) I'm glad that you all liked the name Amelia for Aphrodite. **

**3) The girl at the end of Nico and Hades' chapter was indeed Hazel.**

**4) All of the requests that were sent in have been noted and are currently being written or conceptualised. They will all pop up as soon as possible, so chapters seventy through eighty since I prewrite so much of he story.**

**5) In that frame of mind, would you like to have a list of when anyone's chapter is coming up? Or just a sneak peak of the next chapter at the end of a published one? Answer in the reviews.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**disclaimer: I don't own he following characters.**

* * *

**Old Bird**

**In the style of Grandmother Zhang and Mars**

Her tired eyes fluttered open, but even before that she'd sensed that someone was sitting next to her. She was old and dying but she'd raised enough children to know when someone was near, and lost enough of them to know when trouble was around. She recognised the exact brand of trouble with only a glimpse of his face.

"Hey Old Bird," he said. "Remember me?"

"Of course I do," Mei snapped. "My daughter never loved a man more. But clearly you don't remember me since _I _don't like birds."

"Emily did, I know."

Mei relaxed. He was really who she thought he was if he knew that much about her daughter.

"I haven't forgotten all the little quirks you Zhangs come with. It's only a matter of speech," he continued.

"Remarkable, yes, yes, yes. But if you're looking for Emily, you can leave now." Mei said. "She's…"

"Dead. I know." The god said.

"Indeed. And your son…"

"Frank-"

"I'm assuming you mean Fai considering _that's his name." _Mei said. Sweet baby Jupiter, why could nobody get it right? It was on paper, Mei had to have the paperwork somewhere around here.

"He likes Frank better, Emily warned me that you'd try to tell me otherwise." Mars said. "Anyways, he is on his way here."

"What?" He's supposed to be at Camp! Why in the name of Olympus and Hades did they let him out?!"

"He's leading a quest."

"Why in the name of all things good and sweet would they let him do that?!" Mei scowled. This was getting worst by the second. She shouldn't have woken up. This day was too much like a Monday morning.

"He's leading a quest I assigned him, and doing a really good job at it too." The god said defensively, like Emily would have stood up for Frank under Mei's nitpicking. "They're on their way to Alaska, but they need a place to crash for a while."

"As you probably have noticed, the house is surrounded. It's not an easy pick. I'm not going to see my grandson again, don't humour me. Why do you think they'd come here? "

"It's what Zhangs do. You manage to find and get yourselves home and stop by one last time before going off somewhere dangerous. Or at least Emily always did."

"Yes, well, what Emily did isn't necessarily the family motto. You'd make her poster child of Zhang discipline over my dead body which, granted, may not take that much time or effort right now, given the situation." Mei said.

"Emily was a fantastic woman. You were always hard on her, but even you must admit to that." The god said.

"She took a few… detours. Getting too involved with gods would be one, accepting to do you and your friends' dirty work for _fun _would be another, her disappointing grades, her sassy mouth, her total disinterest in university… But yes, she was a fantastic woman. I am thankful she didn't always listen."

The old woman was really quiet for a while. The god was right there. The god that had fallen in love with her daughter, fathered Mei's only grandchild. Right there, at the foot of her bed out of all things.

"You know, she never really told me who you were."

The god's face was split with a grin.

"And you didn't ever have an idea? You'll be disappointed with yourself, Old Bird."

"I'm dying. Humour me. Who are you?"

His smile was crooked. "Mars Ultor," he answered. "God of war."

The old woman groaned. "_Emily Zhang…" _

He laughed. His laughter was full and contagious. "You should blame yourself for not guessing earlier, Old Bird. It was rather obvious."

"I was using Fai's genetic baggage to guess. You missed a few spots." Mei grumbled.

It was quiet for a while longer.

"What I said earlier was true. She never loved another man like she loved you. Even I know it. Something about you blew her away, satisfied her and snuffed out any further emotions you'd have after meeting a boy at twenty-five. But just at first glance there is no way in hell I could pinpoint what about you did it."

"Ma'am, I don't think I've loved a woman like I've loved your daughter for the last millennia. She was something special. Something higher than the gods blessed me with her, and her son being mine."

"Don't humour me."

"I'm not," Mars said.

"Then why did you leave her? Why did you break her heart, and broke it so well she couldn't fix it?" Mei asked.

"That's between her and me, don't you think?"

"She's dead. I'm not. Talk to me, Mars Ultor."

The god grinned, as if Mei was amusing.

"She was scared for her baby. She thought the stars were already turned against him enough without a god's presence and scent interfering bringing attention to the family. It hurt me not to be able to interfere in any way, and Emily was too preoccupied and anxious around me. We just lost it."

"That kind of tragedy, eh?"

"I wouldn't call it a tragedy."

"Well I would. As angry as I should be with you for sweeping my daughter off her feet and to the stars, I need to thank you. As mad as I am with your realm for killing my daughter, I have to thank you for that too. And as mad as I am with you that my grandson grew up without a father, I have to thank you for being here for him right now, in this room. I am also mad at you because I have to thank you so many times."

"What for?" Mars asked a little surprised. Perhaps he was used to getting slapped or chased out of the village with pitchforks. Perhaps Mei would have done that too if she weren't dying and suddenly realising how short life was and how much that short time meant after all. They said that you were wise in old age, but really you were only wise on your deathbed when suddenly you weren't worrying about anything anymore_. _

"You swept my daughter off her feet and to the stars, you gave her a job that made her feel necessary and good and you gave me a grandson and made him who he is somewhere under all his bulky, oxen foolishness. Thank you."

Mars looked shell shocked for a moment.

"Is this a first?" Mei asked.

This wasn't the tough-as-nails, feisty, demanding, old hag horror stories Emily had entertained him with, obviously.

"Thank you for your daughter, Mrs. Zhang." Mars stuttered after a while. "And thank you for raising my son."

"Did I have a choice?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Mars said. "Go back to sleep and I'll make sure the house stays intact until Frank gets here."

"With pleasure," Mei Zhang said closing her eyes for the second to last time before they shut for good.


	41. Important

**Because nobody acknowledges how important this guy actually is.**

* * *

**Important**

**In the style of Sally Jackson and Paul Blofis**

Sally sat on the couch with a book on her lap. She'd been totting that book around for two weeks, and it was just a tiny paperback. It shouldn't have lasted her more than forty eight judging by her reading pace. She just never cracked the spine and flipped to the first page. For the last two weeks she'd been sitting tight on the couch, losing herself in thoughts that Paul thought were probably too dark for her. No emotion came out of her- no curiosity, anger, sadness, guilt, denial; nothing at all. And definitely not joy. It was alarming to see her so stone-like.

At first he'd assumed it was some kind of mourn, a way to flush out her worry. But it wasn't getting better, it was actually getting worst.

Paul knelt down in front of her and took her hands.

"You need to eat something, and you also need fresh air. Let's go grab a bite or something Sally. Or see a movie, get groceries, go to the bookstore. At least walk around a bit."

Sally shook her head, not taking her eyes off the floor. Usually she was big on eye contact- she thought it was important and always held Percy to it. Maybe that was why right now she rejected it so much.

Paul felt like he was going to scream. He had to get her out of her trance, he was going to go crazy if he had to watch her like this a second longer.

He knelt down in front of her to try and sneak a glance at her face.

"Sally, I know you're worried to no ends. And I know that there's nothing anyone can do to change that, because Percy means more to you than anything in this world. I respect and understand that, I always have."

She still didn't meet his eyes; she just started shaking a bit. He probably should have left her at that, but it had to come out, and if not now than when?

"But you need to take care of yourself because you mean as much to me as Percy means to you, and I'm going to go crazy worrying for both of you. Everyone's going to go crazy if we have to worry for you both."

Sally bit down on her lips and her eyes filled with tears, which was a first.

Paul sat down next to her and held her as she cried.


	42. Genevieve III

**Sorry for the lack of posting I've had the week literally from hell. It didn't even bring Percy and Annabeth back when it crawled out and settled into my life, so there's no way to make it worth it. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Genevieve III**

**In the style of Percy Jackson and Paul Blofis **

They both woke up at the same time, alerted by Gen's screaming.

Paul put a hand on Sally's shoulder.

"I'll go," he said. She gladly crumbled back on the pillows, hair spread over her face. He moved the rebel strands covering her eyes, pushed the sheets back and slipped out of bed.

He was at Genevieve's bedroom door when he heard someone else bouncing her around and shushing her and trying to sing lullabies but forgetting the words and starting from scratch time and time again.

Percy.

Paul watched and waited it out, but Percy seemed to be doing fine. He only put Gen down when she stopped crying, and he was so gentle about it that it was hard to believe that he was a trained warrior.

"Oh," Percy said noticing him on his way out. "You startled me."

"Sorry."

"She's asleep now."

"So I've noticed," he said. "Thank you. But don't feel like you have to get up for her in the future though, get some sleep."

"Well, you two are exhausted. I thought you might sleep through it. I was up anyways, and it worked although I have no idea what the hell I did and why it worked."

"Don't worry, only your mother does." Paul said.

"She's done this before."

"She's done it well," he nodded. "Genevieve is lucky to have a brother like you. Your mother and I were very scared when we thought she may not."

Percy looked into her room.

"Is it weird that I'm mad?"

"Not at all," Paul said. "To tell you the truth we've kind of been anticipating it."

"Am I that predictable?"

"No, it's just what a lot of people feel."

Percy turned to Paul abruptly, frowning.

"You and I are talking about different things." Percy said giving him a look. "What are you talking about?"

"Aren't you angry that you came home and there was a new child that you didn't even know about?" Paul asked.

"No," Percy huffed. "I'm mad that I did stupid stuff like fall into Tartarus and that I didn't save the world by a larger margin. I mean, _she _was in it. I could have never met my little sister."


	43. Grocery Shopping

**I think this was the first request I ever got- so to the anon who requested it, if you're still reading: here's your story.**

* * *

**Grocery Shopping**

**In the style of May and Luke Castellan**

**For Guest**

"Sweetie, stay with the cart okay?" May asked. She lowered her voice so only the little blond boy would hear her. He was seven years old, but May knew for a fact that a seven year old could still get into a lot of trouble with the police. "And I don't want to see your fingers just wandering around near the cookies. We'll get you some school snacks later, okay? Legally."

"Kay," Luke said with a neutral face. He watched her walk away, looking worried. "Mom, can I get, like, homemade cookies this week?"

"Of course," May asked. "I just thought you liked Oreos better."

Luke shook his head. "I like yours better."

"I'll make a batch after lunch, okay?" May said with a smile.

Luke nodded. May grabbed a few jars of peanut butter after realising that it was on sale, and she returned to the cart.

"I'm assuming that it isn't this week that you're going to change your favourite sandwiches," May said.

Luke shook his head with a tiny, half-hearted smile.

"Alright, let's go into the vegetable aisle."

Luke made a face. _That_ was a lot less exciting for him.

"Okay, okay- how about I go grab some greens and you go pick out the juice you want to drink this week."

"Even if it's Kool-Aid?" Luke asked, his big blue eyes so much like his father's begging. May cringed at the idea of him having that much sugar in his body, but something had happened this morning to upset him (though she didn't know what it was for the life of her)...

"Even if it's Kool-Aid," she consented.

Luke smiled and ran off, May's proud and loving smile lighting up the aisle.


	44. Silent Protests

**Silent Protests**

**In the style of Ms. La Rue and Ares**

**For empress24601**

Tape across their mouths, and signs at their feet, Leah and her group settled themselves in for a long day of nothing on Capitol Hill. Well, not nothing. They were sitting near the white house with tape across their mouths to protest the Gulf War and all the child victims who didn't get any attention or have any voices. The tape was symbolic. Plus there had been a lot of fundraising to get everybody from the university's campus in Arizona to DC, to join the massive protests that were going to occur this whole week. Her group was starting early for the hell of it.

People –tourists, workers, students- all passed by, looking curiously at them. Some of them stopped to read their signs and those were Leah's favourite people of the day. Some glanced and walked on, which was okay too she supposed.

A motorcycle was splitting the crowd. The biker paused right in front of them, the ugly black smoke from his exhaust tank making the air nauseating and unhealthy. He looked at them, reading the signs and threw his head back laughing. Downright _laughing. _Right in front of them!

Leah got up and as soon as she was on the pavement and not on the grass she took the tape off her mouth.

"Do you mind?" She asked. "Some of us have traveled a long way to be here, and we've put some effort into the signs and coordination. Just because you're a jerk –and I know this because you laughed _and_ because you're idling in a huge crowd- doesn't mean you get to ridicule that and all these people who have better intentions than you can ever hope to have, thank you very much."

The man lifted his sunglasses, somewhat taken back, but grinning. His smile wasn't _that _bad when his eyes -fiery eyes- were set on you.

"You know, for a pacifist you're pretty fierce." He said. He held out his hand. "My name's Ares."


	45. Genevieve IV

**Genevieve V**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson **

**For RyanNarwhall**

There were many ways to describe Paul's family. Delicate, sensible, open-minded and pleasant weren't the usual four words Sally picked, and Paul knew it. He loved his family as much as any man loved his family. He'd grown up surrounded by his people so although he'd thankfully immigrated out of the dark ages, he was used to them and used to ignoring them, used to picking his battles, and used to seeing the nice things in all of these people. Sally was told that those were in fact in existence.

Sally tried to tell herself that her in-laws were good people. Besides, some of them were genuinely nice on a permanent basis. On the bad days she told herself that she'd married for the husband, and thankfully he was very different. They had been very nice to Sally, except for his mother of course who just couldn't believe the age she'd had Percy at and had fondly nicknamed her the serial bride- which was _super _appreciated. Sally was waiting for the day when her son would hear that and loose it.

Today was a good day. It was a party day for them, actually. Paul had convinced them to back off and leave them both alone about Genevieve until Percy came back and Sally's nerves and conscience settled, until her family was whole again. They hadn't liked it but Paul had made several good points about how he could _accidentally _lose invitations and so they'd waited. Now they were tired of waiting.

So today they were throwing the baby-celebration parties that they always threw. Mrs. Blofis had seemed nearly smug when she'd asked if there was any of Sally's family to invite, to which she'd replied no. To which Mrs. Blofis had replied "not even your son?" Paul had made the save that one time by saying that Percy was part of their family already, which was good because Sally was virtually insomniac and would not have answered as patiently as she usually did, nor would she have been as kind as Paul had.

It was in the loft of her brother-in-law Sean's loft that they were all gathered. The apartment was big and it had a gorgeous view of the skyline, which was the kind of place you lived in if you were a lawyer who'd been hired for Dare Enterprises just before they were sued by environmentalists.

Things were going alright. Genevieve was being passed from arm to arm, and having a blast looking at all these strange new faces. Sally was a bit edgy because she was often out of her sight, and she was too used to monitoring children who were demigods. It was safe in here though, and she had to remind herself of that.

Speaking of the demigod child in question, he'd spent about ten minutes in the apartment before escaping to the rooftop with his cousins Jennie and Cleo. That was their usual routine: say hello to a few people and then run for it. The three of them would be back when cake came if routine was followed.

"It must be weird to have had Genevieve so long after the first," Sean's associate, Pierette, said.

"Not really," Sally said.

Pierette swirled the wine in her glass, bored and uninterested since Sally didn't have wildly fascinating or dramatic stories to tell on the subject. The stench of wine and beer was horrible. Nobody was drunk, but Sally had a keen nose when it came to alcohol.

She clung onto Paul's arm for solidarity.

"We have a few options for when you get sick of this," Paul said quietly. "One, you make an excuse about being tired because I'm a lame father- which will convince my mother and by osmosis the rest of my family. Two, I fake an epileptic seizure."

Sally smiled.

"Three, fake phone call from Percy telling me he's in New Jersey and needs a ride. They were all at your sister's wedding, right? They'll all buy it."

"Four, I hide Genevieve under my jacket and we pretend we've lost her. When we go look in the car she's mysteriously there, so while we're there we can say that we tripped _into _the car and accidentally started it"

"Five, somehow a small fire caught onto our curtains so that we have to rush back home."

"Six, the Force." Paul said. Sally laughed and squeezed his hand.

"I'm okay," she said. "Just let me track down Genevieve… she's with your mother. Alright."

Carla elbowed her way through the crowd, called Paul and Sally over and Genevieve was plopped back in Sally's arm. Win-win.

A cake was dropped on the table, with pink icing and tiny sugar flowers.

"Martin, can you go get the kids?" Carla called out to the youngest cousin. "They're on the roof or a balcony of some sort."

Martin walked out, flicking his long hair behind his ear and texting as he walked.

Sally was about to say something to Carla about the cake when Mrs. Blofis got going.

"That boy needs a haircut," she said. "Who knows what kids are doing these days. What were those kids doing up on the roof? It don't look good, and I think it's even sketchy."

"They were just having a good time," Sally said. Genevieve's fingers were wrapped around one of Sally's. "They haven't seen each other in a while."

Mrs. Blofis huffed and puffed and it didn't take a genius to figure out what she was thinking. Of course if Jennie and Cleo had been up by themselves, this wouldn't have been brought up. Sally took a deep breath and didn't say anything more on the subject.

"Carla, the cake is gorgeous. You baked it yourself, didn't you?"

"Oh, you're starting to recognise my sugar flowers Sally." Carla beamed. "Maybe I use them too often..."

"No, they're very pretty." Sally said.

Nobody said anything else.

"What could they possibly be doing that is taking them so long?"

Sally closed her eyes as she went livid, concentrating on Genevieve. She was holding Gen in her arms, Gen was playing with her finger, Gen was a familiar weight…

Apparently everyone was keen to change the subject because Paul's sister Mary spoke up.

"Genevieve's a gorgeous name," she said. "That's what Isaac and I nearly named Cleo."

"Tell them about the meaning," Sally said to stretch out the conversation, poking Paul in the side.

"She's named after Queen Guinevere," Paul said. "The first book Sally recommended I read was King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Genevieve seemed a less cruel adaptation of the name."

Martin came stumbling in, the youngest cousins in tow. Jennie and Cleo were giggling. Sally knew why, Percy had a new joke about penguins being taken to the zoo. Mrs. Blofis frowned and would have opened her mouth if Carla hadn't lit the candles on the cake and 'happy birthday Genevieve' wouldn't have picked up. Sally tried to drag Percy up front with them, but he was too far back. He just watched.

Everyone was in the room now, and that's when the good night started to look like a bad night.

Sean's wife Nicole was talking to them when Percy wandered towards her.

"Hey sweetheart," Sally said kissing his cheek. "Had fun with your cousins?"

"Yeah," he said, the hand that wasn't holding his cake stuffed as deep as his pocket went.

Nicole was talking with Paul. "I can't believe how much she looks like you two," she said. "There's not a doubt about it; she's your daughter."

For the first time Sally caught Percy out of it. He was glancing into a decorative mirror, as his traits that were basically entirely Poseidon's. He was chewing his lip.

The second time came when they were talking to Mrs. Blofis for whatever reason. Sally usually tried not to.

"With you two as parents Genevieve will have the darlingest little family."

Percy looked over his shoulder.

Strike three was when Genevieve got tired and started fussing in Sally's arms.

"Can I hold her?" Percy asked.

Sean laughed. "Big Brother to the rescue, eh?"

It sounded like mocking.

"I know how that feels," Sean said elbowing Percy. "It's hard enough when they're your own siblings, trust me."

"She's my little sister," Percy said with the kind of growl in his voice that she'd heard him use only in the few ocassions she'd seen him fight against monsters or a guy who bugged Annabeth or even Gabe. His eyes were hard.

"That's sweet Percy but I think we'll just head home," Sally said putting a hand on his arm. "Do you want to go get the car?"

She fished the keys from Paul's pockets. He turned around to face her, confused, and Sally shot him a look before handing the keys to Percy.

He took them. His eyes were furious and Sally felt her heart break a bit.

"I'll just go say bye to Jennie and Cleo," he said. "Later Sean."

He left quickly, not even stopping when his name was called.

"Is he allowed to drive this late with his learner's?" Paul asked quietly.

"No, you'll have to go with him." Sally said. Paul seemed to understand that something was going on. He stopped and said goodbye to a few people before going out.

Sally then spun towards Sean her deadliest look. Her you-just-made-fun-of-my-favourite-book look. Her you-broke-up-with-my-best-friend look. The you-have-just-insulted-my-child's-difficulties/father/track record/name look… It didn't come out often, but it was dark.

She readjusted Genevieve in her arms.

"That was not a necessary comment," Sally said. "My son is as much as a part of Paul and I's family as our legitimate daughter is. It was out of place for you to say that, and either ignorant or cruel or maybe even both as well."

Sean looked taken back.

"I'm sorry Sally."

Genevieve would start crying any second.

"I'm not the one who deserves an apology, Percy is. You can tell him next time you see him: he won't have forgotten."

* * *

Percy was sitting on the fire escape that night.

Sally sat down next to him.

"Mom?" He said. "You should be…"

"So should you," she said putting an arm around him. "How are Jennie and Cleo doing? You three spent so much time together; I barely got to slip a word in with them."

"They're okay."

"I'm sorry you had a horrible time this evening. Paul is too, you know it's just for show."

"You had a worst time," Percy said. "It's you that about half of them don't like. It's you that his godsdamned mother doesn't treat well. It's you that they make miserable."

"Are you sure about that?" Sally asked. "Are you sure that they don't make you somewhat miserable too?"

Percy readjusted himself on the fire escape.

"This is where Nico just popped up two birthdays ago," Percy said. "Because, you know, that's what my other side of the family does."

"It was," Sally said softly.

"So I came to sit out here because I remembered that, then I remembered that I was at war for my last two birthdays, and then I remember how demented my family can be." Percy said. "I'm really sorry I was so hard to bring up, and I'm really sorry that my dad couldn't stay and had to go, and I'm sorry that you were on your own all the time. I'm really glad that you have a second chance with Gen and Paul."

Sally's arm slipped down from his shoulders and her stomach slipped down into her feet. Her heart curled up in her throat.

"Percy, Genevieve isn't that different from you. She'll cry, she'll scream, she'll throw tantrums, she'll get bad grades, she'll get upset at her parents." Sally said. "Those are all things you did to me."

Percy looked down. Sally brushed his bangs out of his eyes. The only reasonable thing Mrs. Blofis had said all evening was that he may need a haircut.

"She'll also say her first words, be in cheesy school plays, put her soul into 'happy mother's day' cards, and be the most important thing in my world." Sally said passing her head in Percy's hair. "Sure, logistics wise she'll be simpler to manage. And I am happy that her dad's going to be around before she's twelve. But nothing makes Genevieve better than you, and nothing makes you better than Genevieve. You're both mine, and I love you both." **  
**

Percy looked up at her with the big eyes that reminded her how young Percy still was, despite everything he'd accomplished and the relationships he had and the choices he'd had to make. The big eyes that were vulnerable and still unsure about the world and still unsure about himself as a whole.

She kissed his forehead and held him closer.


	46. Klutz

**Hi! So something happened and a series of three drabbles that I wanted to write didn't get done on time, so here you are with three of the latest requests fulfilled earlier than humanely expected instead. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Klutz**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

_**For WatermelonPushPopsAreCool**_

They were walking along the docks of Vancouver Island after spending the day there. She'd taught him how to kayak, which he hadn't done in ages and was _really _bad at. When she'd splashed him he'd flipped over while trying to return the favour. She'd dived in after him just for the hell of annoying him even more. Nothing brought her greater joy.

Emily was laughing at his newest corny jokes when she tripped over her own shadow. Mars caught her arm and prevented a face-plant that would probably have been hilarious to him.

"Good gods, Zhang. This is a flat surface." Mars said.

"It's not my fault that I'm a klutz," she said defensively. She was just used to excusing herself to her mother that way.

"Something tells me I can't wait to hear that explanation."

"No, I'm serious!" Emily said. "Every time I shape shift -like I did in the water- I have some trouble adjusting to the new size and feet shape and limbs when I turn human again."

"No kidding."

"Yeah, it's happened to everyone as far as my family can tell," Emily shrugged. "Also why I was clumsy as a child: my body was like 'why are we human, we don't like this!' Gods, I was horrible. Then I started transforming, everything just calmed down and now I'm agile as heck most of the time."

"Huh. This is all very technical."

"You wouldn't believe it," she said. She put on a serious face to tease him. "My life is _so _hard."

"Yeah I bet," he said. She broke into a grin and kissed his cheek.

"Guess you _do _learn something new every day," he said putting an arm around her.


	47. Legends

**Legends**

**In the style of Tristan and Piper McLean**

**For ChocolateIsMyDream**

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat on the patio of Rose's house.

Rose got up from her lawn chair and walked towards Tristan when he got out of the car. She caught up to him halfway thanks to her long and swift steps.

"Thank you so much for picking her up at school; I had no time at all, I couldn't get free…" Tristan said.

"Don't worry about it," his great-aunt replied. She was a well-built lady, the oldest person in the reserve. She wore long woolen skirts and leather tops. Her hair was always in tight braids and nobody knew why they weren't greyer than they were since there wasn't a trace that a bottle of hair dye had ever gone into her house. "What you should worry about is your daughter fighting at school."

"Oh god," Tristan said passing a hand through his hair. "Is that what happened?"

"It's what I was told," Rose said. "Right in the nose too. Made him bleed. Don't know where she learned how to punch like that, but I am mildly impressed. Anyways, she refused to make a card to apologise like the school asked. I don't know what to do."

"Thank you Aunt Rose, I'll talk to her."

"Oh, I know you will. But... try to be kind." Rose said. She walked by to the house and fluffed Piper's hair before she walked in. Piper's hair was done in braids that were too nice to be the ones Tristan had made in the morning and were therefore surely Rose's doing.

"Hey sweetheart," Tristan said sitting down next to her. Piper hugged her legs tighter and didn't say a word. "You're out of school early."

"I got in trouble," Piper said.

"I know," he said rubbing her back. "What happened? You threw a punch at a little boy? What was his name?"

"Harry McDonald." Piper said. "He sits next to me because of alphabata-alphabetcal-alphab…"

"Alphabetical order?"

Piper nodded.

"Okay," Tristan said. "What did he do to you?"

"What?" Piper frowned.

"Pipes," he said seriously. "You don't punch people for no reason. That doesn't mean you reacted the right way, but he must have done _something _to you."

Piper's face scrunched up in anger and she pulled on her braids. "He called me Pocahontas."

"Did he?" Tristan said, trying not to sigh. Great. He knew that the day would come- it was inevitable. He just didn't think that at six years old kids were already mean enough to go pick on someone about race.

"Yeah. And it's stupid."

"Why is it stupid?"

"Because I'm not Pocahontas! I'm Piper. I'm just a bit _like _Pocahontas because of my skin." Piper said with a sigh, like she was very tired of explaining this. "It's not nice for him to call me that."

"Did you tell him exactly what you told me?" Tristan asked.

"Yes!" Piper said. "A million times!"

"So why did you punch him instead of telling him that today?"

"I was sick of it." Piper said.

"I'd be sick of it too, Piper." Tristan said. "I understand, okay? People used to call me names too." 'Red Chief' was a popular one, probably because people had no imagination. It wouldn't be as bad if some thought had been put into it in his books. "But what else do you think you could have done?"

Piper shrugged. "I don't know."

"Could you have told your teacher?" Tristan asked.

"He wouldn't have stopped," Piper said. "He never does. The teacher doesn't even talk to him anymore because he's so bad. Like Lucy told him to stop pulling her hair but what does he do all the time? He pulls her hair." She rolled her little eyes. "That's another reason I punched him, daddy. He pulls Lucy's hair and that's just mean too. It's not her fault she has long hair."

"So punching him was right?" Tristan said.

"It was the only way that worked." Piper said.

Tristan chewed on the inside of his cheek. How was he going to explain this? She could wiggle her way out of any contract or rule… He needed something concrete and real and true. But also unique enough so that it would interest her.

"Did I ever tell you the legend of the two wolves?" Tristan asked.

Piper shook her head. He plopped her on his knees and she starred right in his eyes with the kaleidoscopic, ever-changing eyes she'd inherited from her mother.

"There's a fight going on inside you right now," he said. "And the same one is happening inside me, inside Aunt Rose, and even inside Harry McDonald."

Piper frowned. "Who's fighting?"

"Two wolves," Tristan said. "There's one black wolf, and one white wolf. The black one is a whole bunch of awful things- like greed, evil, self-pity, resentment, sadness and anger. And even more than that. The white one is joy, peace, kindness, love, hope, truth and faith."

"It's like good vs. evil fighting?" Piper asked.

"That's exactly what happens," Tristan nodded.

"So who wins?" Piper asked. "Like, is one wolf bigger so he always just goes and bites the other one? Which wolf wins?"

"The one you feed," Tristan said. Piper cocked her head to the side, confused. "The one you let win. When you hit someone: why would you do it?"

"Because you're mad."

"Right. And what do we call it when you hurt someone with your hands or feet or whatever?" Tristan said.

"Violence," Piper said, taking a second to coin the right word.

"Exactly, sweetheart. And who has all the nasty feelings?"

"The Black Wolf."

"So you feed him, and let him win. When you tell someone to stop bothering you and say please too, the white one is victorious."

"So I let the black one win," Piper said sadly. "Like Anastasia's foot fitting in Cinderella's shoe."

"Yes," Tristan said defining the Disney simile in his head as he went along, brushing her hair out of her face. "But don't worry. The fight goes on every day, there's always a chance for the white one to win again. You just need to watch the way you act and the way you treat people."

Piper looked at her hands and nodded.

"I'm sorry I let the black wolf win."

"Don't worry about it Piper," he said. "It happens to everyone. Harry McDonald was doing the same thing. But I want you to try to apologise to him, okay?"

"Okay Daddy. You're not going to punish me?"

"Not this time," he said. "And I'm going to call your school to explain too. Just do your best so it doesn't happen again."

She nodded and buried herself against his chest. He closed his arms around her, wondering what he'd do on the fateful day when there would be a life lesson he'd have to teach without a story to go with it.


	48. Shrouds

**This chapter comes with a game. The game is called: Let's pretend that Katie and Miranda are biological siblings**

**Disclaimer: Me no own the characters shown below.**

* * *

**Shrouds**

**In the style of Demeter and Miranda Gardner**

_**For Floatfoot**_

Miranda spat. She was spitting every waking second since the War with Gaia. She'd gotten hurt somehow, and now blood kept swelling up in her throat and mouth, mixing with her spit and tasting like copper. It was a disgusting habit, and Katie would kill her for it on accounts of how Dad had raised them so much better.

Actually, no. Katie wouldn't kill her. On accounts of how they'd lost Juliet today.

Miranda sighed and leaned her head back against the arena's first row of seats. She wanted to cry. She wanted to bawl, actually. And maybe sitting in the arena full of shrouds wasn't the best idea to help her mood, but Miranda couldn't help it. Dad had always laughed and said that she, Katie and Juliet were a real trio –he'd even named them so that they went together: _Katherine, Miranda and Juliet- _and that they'd be the kinds of sisters who'd stay with each other up into their golden age and play pranks on each other and drive the staff of some nursing home absolutely nuts. Clearly now that wasn't going to happen, but Miranda couldn't bring herself to let go of her little sister just yet.

Twelve years old. Twelve years old. Her age was still on a clock and she'd died. Soldiers were supposed to be eighteen to enrol, but their blood made sure that they could be soldiers anytime. Somehow having the red and the gold mixing so casually in their veins made them fit to die anytime.

Sometimes the thought made her sick (children of Demeter were pacifists more often than not- creating rather than killing et cetera), and sometimes the thought brought comfort to her. If she died, than it was just the universe taking its course.

_But not her little sister. _

Miranda had to take some pretty deep breaths. She wasn't alone in the arena, but surely it wouldn't matter if she'd cry. There wasn't a demigod in the world not on the verge of tears right now- not the Romans, not the leaders, not the usually oh-so-tough Ares campers. But the reason, the thing was that she didn't want to cry. She wasn't in the mood to deal with the sniffling and the leaky nose and the puffy eyes. Those were the things that Juliet always needed taking care of for, and gods forbid if Miranda approached Katie needing that kind of care. Her sister would finally break. Besides, the Demeter kids and their natural balms and such were on call.

She turned her head, neck limp, and starred at the shroud closest to her. Smaller than the rest. Juliet's. It was grassy-green and a bouquet of daisies from the cabin's gardens were resting on top of it. Usually there were chains of flowers and petals spread over and the shrouds were as colourful as they could possibly and humanely get. But there wasn't time right now.

Not only was it her little sister under there, but gods damn the shroud was just _ugly. _It wasn't pretty, it wasn't decorated… It was butt ugly. It was butt ugly, and the little girl under it was gorgeous and colourful. Had been... Oh gods, the past tense was coming at her too quickly.

Miranda felt like crying all over again and she shut her eyes to try to push the smallest shroud she'd ever seen to the farthest corners of her mind. Suddenly the air smelt like freshly mowed grass and freshly ripe fruit and flowers and the strawberry fields.

She opened her eyes and turned to look at the shroud again.

Sunflowers had grown around it, linking each other over the shroud like hugs. Rose petals and clovers were spread over the mix, and wildflowers and lilies aplenty had added themselves to the pitiful daisy bouquet. Lilies were Juliet's favourite.

Miranda moaned. Her heart had stopped beating to squeeze on itself tortuously.

It wasn't ugly anymore. It was yellow and bright and Juliet would have loved it and it was so beautiful, even if it was just a superficial layer of beauty above a sad, sad thing…

"Thank you," she whispered looking up at the sky.


	49. Offence Taken

**Offence Taken**

**In the style of Sally Jackson**

She was hugging her stack of books and walking through the corridor, trying not to get in anyone's way as per usual.

She was walking by the English sector where a bunch of frustrated looking students were walking out of the lower level class.

"I hate Literature," one guy said. He was in Sally's biology class- well, he was when he showed up. "I mean, it's so useless. What kind of a freak just reads book after book and analyses like that?"

Sally spun around.

"Hey!" She cried.

The guy turned and looked at her stunned.

She took the first book from her stack. "This here is a William Shakespeare anthology containing three of his comedies- The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's Dream and The Two Gentlemen of Verona. This man wrote these plays in the 1500's and we don't even know who he is or if he even was a real person, but we still read his stories because they are _amazing_ and so relevant to this day."

She pulled up another book. "This is _The Three Musketeers _by Alexandre Dumas _Père. _I have _Les Misérables _by Victor Hugo in my bag. These books were written in French. I don't speak French and neither do millions of people in the world, but these stories were so good that someone sat down and translated every word one by one just to give those millions of people a chance to read them. And those millions of people did, and _loved _them."

Sally pulled up another book. "This is Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. It's a children's book, but it's such a _fantastic _adventure and setting that scholars are studying it as we speak and movies are being made."

The next one was _Pride and Prejudice. _"This is all about how your morality is influenced by your upbringing and I can tell you that there are people who spend their nights reading these stories to try and figure out what that said about them. I know because I've done it, and I know that if I hadn't read this book I'd be an entirely different person most likely for the worst.

"White Fang isn't even narrated by a human, but the world was written so unbelievably realistically and the world is so exciting and new that we read it still.

She dropped her bag and pulled out the biggest tome she was carrying.

"This book was written by a man who invented a language, an alphabet and cultures within a world as well as their pasts and interactions for the sake of a story that is taking the world by storm even fifty something years after it's gotten published," she said holding up J.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings.

She pulled out another book.

"This is The Diary of Anne Frank. This girl wrote about the single most horrific war in human history in the form of a diary. She wanted to be a writer and write real books and real articles when she grew up, but she never got the chance to because she was killed by the Nazis for no good reason at all. And now look. She's dead, but her talent was so prominent, so recognised and her story was such a good and important one to tell that even if she's dead she's a writer we all know. Her dream came true. And clearly it mattered to _her, _which is why it matters to so many people. Because Anne Frank is so real and palpable and gifted in imagery that way." Sally said.

She picked up her backpack and stuffed her book inside, without paying attention to the looks she was getting. She straightened up.

"And by the way, _I'm _going to study English lit when I graduate. So watch what you say because that was offensive and offence was taken." Sally said. She noticed the looks. Shock, puzzlement, worry even. Her cheeks flushed red.

"Holy smokes," he said. "I thought you were deaf mute."

He extended his hand.

"Hello, my name is Oliver."

Sally blushed fiercely to the root of her hair and shook his hand. Her shyness was back.

She hated how she only came out of her shell when she had to yell to someone about something worth it.


	50. Robotic

**Robotic**

**In the style of Nicole Stoll and Hermes **

**For empress24601**

She tapped her foot against the tiled floor impatiently. _Come on. _The one day she couldn't be late for anything, the subways of New York were suddenly running at the pace of a snail. They _never _did that.

She was frustrated and late and her coffee wasn't doing its job, so she hiked her purse further up her shoulder and turned around to go walk, despite the rain. She passed a musician in the stairs; he was playing a guitar and singing. He was okay, but nothing incredible.

"You say Yes. I say No  
You say Stop and I say Go, go, go.  
Oh no.  
You say Goodbye and I say Hello, hello, hello.  
I don't know why you say Goodbye, I say Hello, hello, hello.  
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello.

She was nearly up the stairs when he called after her.

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

She turned around with a sigh.

"Yes sir?" She asked.

"I said hello," he said shrugging and spreading his hands, as if Nicole had just ripped him off.

"That's a lyric," she said clucking her tongue.

"And lyrics can't mean anything?"

She didn't have time for this. She just turned around and walked away.

* * *

The next day she walked down the stairs and someone called out, "Did you get to work on time?"

She spun around and saw the same musician as yesterday- curly hair, cheeky smile, blue eyes…

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." She said her fingers curling around her cup of coffee. "Thank you."

"Well that's good. Because you looked stressed enough as it was. I couldn't even imagine how freaked out you'd be if you got in late."

She pursed her lips, offended.

"I am _not _stressed," she said. "Who are you, anyways?"

"My name's Hermes," he said. "What's yours?"

"Nicole," she said sharply.

"Nice name, it suits you really well."

"Thank you," she said before noticing the time on her watch and running down to the station.

* * *

For the next month life went on as usual.

Nicole kept going to work at her internship at a lawyer's practice downtown. She kept taking the subway. The musician kept his spot and strummed his guitar and said hello and even dropped some corny jokes every once in a while- corny jokes that just got funnier as time progressed.

Except this week was horrible. Her brother had been diagnosed with lung cancer for the third time, and Nicole had barely been able to sleep through the worry and adjoining guilt of not being able to go back home and take care of Peter. She was waking up late as a result and she couldn't even get her morning coffee, which threw her entire life off balance.

The third day of the week, the musician grabbed her arm in the stairs.

"Nicole, wait a second." He said.

She was about to snap that she was late but he handed her a cup of coffee. Seattle's Best- the one she usually got.

"It's got sugar and milk," he said. "You just stroked me as a sugar and milk kind of person."

Her mouth stayed open for a while. She _was _a sugar and milk kind of person.

"Thank you so much, Hermes." She said.

"No problem. I'll get you one tomorrow okay? I hope whatever is going on gets better."

She smiled and sighed.

"I hope so too, Hermes." She said. She kept walking and turned around. "And for the record, you're the only person who's told me that- or even noticed anything. Thank you."

"No problem, Sugar and Milk."

* * *

And so that's how it went. Three months later when her brother recovered from his operation and reached the NEC mark and Nicole slept well; Hermes still got her a cup of Seattle's Best. Nicole actually started showing up to the station early and in her fancy trench coat and tricky pencil skirt, she'd sit down on the steps next to him and chat as he tuned his guitar.

"You look a lot happier," he pointed out.

"I feel better," Nicole admitted. "My brother's healthy now."

"What did he have?"

"Lung cancer," Nicole sighed. "It was his third time. We thought it'd be it for him, but nope. Still won't let it do him in, thank God."

"He got lucky," Hermes shrugged. "That happens to good people."

"Well if someone deserves it, it'd be Peter." Nicole sighed. "He's my twin brother, you know."

"Older or younger?" Hermes asked.

"Older by five minutes," Nicole said. "The five most decisive seconds of my life. He _never _lets go of it."

"I know lots of twins like that," Hermes said. "And the twins I know would be right by their twin's side if he was that sick. What gives?"

Nicole sighed. "I couldn't get time off."

"Your boss wouldn't grant you that?" Hermes asked stunned.

"No, he's a bit of an…"

"Asshole?"

"A really invested professional," Nicole said.

"No, asshole." Hermes said. "There's a difference. It's thin, but it's there. Trust me, I've dealt with all of them."

"Is that why you don't work? Why you just play music all day?" Nicole asked.

"Partially, but this is mostly because I like it," Hermes shrugged. "It's not glorious, but I like it."

"Well that's good," Nicole said.

"So why do you work? Why don't you just play music all day?"

"Well, work is how you make money and money is how you live." Nicole said. "It just seems important."

"Sure, but there are lots of jobs that aren't governed by assholes," Hermes said. "Why law?"

Nicole shrugged. "I had good grades and school."

"So?" Hermes asked. "I mean- great for you and everything, like, yay you're a genius, congrats Sugar and Milk. But why did you want to become a lawyer?"

"Peter wasn't good in school," Nicole sighed. "He missed it too much and wasn't very academic to begin with. I covered some ground for him by going into law and making Dad happy."

"Ewe," Hermes asked. "You don't even want to be working for this asshole?"

"Well, it's not that I don't want to…"

"No, that's what it is. You don't want to. You just said so." Hermes said. "Stop your sugar-coating, you have enough of that in your coffee."

Nicole laughed. "I suppose I do. I… I don't know."

"Okay, well… Say your brother would've been, like, a doctor and he'd have discovered the cure for cancer and he'd be a genius and your Dad would be satisfied with the goodness of the world and you'd be off the hook even if you died your hair magenta and married an ex-prisoner that you'd met while smoking weed. What would you do?"

Nicole was shocked. What… what _would _she do?

"I don't know," she mused. "I drew a lot when I was a kid. It was easy to drag supplies around to hospitals and so forth. I got good at it- like, really good at it. Drawing was a better alternative to pacing when dark things were going on."

"Oh yeah?" Hermes said. "Well then you should do that."

"Nuh-uh," Nicole said with a laugh. "Life doesn't work like that. I'm already at my internship, I've gone through a whole bunch of university already I can't just… let everything go."

"You let go of something you loved," Hermes shrugged. "Isn't that nearly just as much?"

Nicole was stumped by how true that was.

"Keep the cup," she said handing him her empty coffee cup. "You need a new one for your coins, the other one's falling apart. It's pitiful."

* * *

"Stratford," Mr Gagnon called.

"Stoll," she reminded him softly, swirling her chair around to face her boss.

"Yes, you. Make three photocopies of this document." He said handing her something.

She was typing up an Excel for him that'd been due yesterday too.

"Yes sir," she said taking the document from his hands.

"And make it quick, I want you back to work on that. I want it wrapped up before the staff meeting this afternoon; I need you to make notes. You have printed out the budget haven't you?"

"Yes sir," she lied.

"Oh good, so you'll also have time to make a few calls for me. I'll leave the numbers on your desk."

"Yes sir," she sighed again.

"Thank you Stevenson."

"My name is Stoll, sir." She sighed. But he didn't hear her, he walked right out.

She stood by the photocopier and pushed the right buttons in the right order… and the damn machine jammed.

For ten minutes she stood there, frustratingly pulling and kicking the machine, shaking it, pushing all the buttons at random…

She groaned and slumped down on top of the machine.

Maybe Hermes was right. Maybe her job _did _suck a lot.

* * *

"You should wear your hair down," Hermes called out to her as she walked away after their chat.

She turned around. "It's unprofessional," she said.

"But it'd look really good on you," he said. "Haven't you ever tried it? Those pins don't look comfortable."

"They're not."

"Well there you go. Wear it down." Hermes said.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at him to see how serious he was. As usual, he was completely serious- just not about things that people were usually serious about. And then he mimicked her position with a little cluck of the tongue full of attitude and a dramatic roll of his eyes.

She wished that she had sighed, but she actually laughed and pulled the pins from her hair and put them in a pouch inside her purse. The last lock fell on the back of her neck.

"Ta dah," she said spreading her arms as if she'd just made a rabbit appear in a hat.

Hermes left his guitar and walked up to her. He tousled her hair, and his fingers brushed her cheek. They were warm and soft and for some reason all the focus in Nicole's body gravitated straight towards the spot.

"There. Doesn't that feel better?"

She was still electrified by the choc.

"Sure," she said.

* * *

"Aren't you freezing?" She asked. Hermes wasn't wearing more than his usual hoody and leather jacket, yet the first snow had fallen over New York last night.

"Sort of," he said. "I didn't know that it was cold out today."

"Didn't you check the weather?" Nicole wondered. He laughed.

"Good one," Hermes smiled. "No thanks, I like winging it."

"Well you sure are good at it," Nicole grumbled. "But you'll freeze and… Oh, just take this."

She unwrapped her scarf from around her neck and handed it to him. He grinned.

"Isn't it unprofessional to show up at work without a scarf? Isn't it inappropriate to hand over your clothes to a musician on the streets who might carry parasites?" Hermes asked.

"Oh, shut up," Nicole said. But she had to smile.

"You're right, your hair's down and that'll keep you warm," he said wrapping the scarf around his neck. "You look very pretty, by the way."

"Thank you," she said. "You look very good yourself. I think the scarf makes the look."

Hermes laughed.

* * *

"Smith-"

"Stoll."

"Yes," Mr Gagnon said waving his hand. "I'm going to need you to prepare a brief on the Montgomery case for the lawyer who'll be taking over the case from McDermott when she goes on maternity leave."

"Veronica McMillan, you mean," Nicole said.

"Yes, yes, yes- you know what I mean." Mr Gagnon said. "It'll only be a month but…"

"A month?" Nicole asked.

"Yes. There's a month of paid mat leave."

"You can't do that," Nicole scowled. "That's not nearly enough time!"

"I'm sorry," Mr Gagnon said, "Who are you in this firm?"

Nicole's energy deflated, but her indignation flared. "Your assistant."

"Yes. Does that qualify you to shout out your opinions on how I run my practice if nobody else ever has?"

Nicole clenched her teeth. "No."

"Excellent. The brief should be on my desk by, say, before you go home tonight." He said before turning around.

* * *

"Here," Nicole said handing him a sketchpad as she sat down and took her coffee from him.

"What's this?" Hermes asked.

"A sketch," Nicole said. "It might just be me but you just seemed so interested in my art and so last night I picked up a pencil and this happened. And so I just…"

"Whoa," Hermes said looking over it. "Nicole, this is gorgeous."

"It is?" She asked. It didn't look like much to her. It was just a steampunk lady, trying to look elegant while a pool of oil oozed from her robot and the stain climbed up her skirt.

"It is," he said sounding distant. "I haven't seen something this good in a long time. It looks so casual yet gorgeous and the attention to detail… And the… wow…"

Nicole blushed. "It's just a quick sketch in Central Park."

"Well then keep sketching quickly in Central Park, you are fantastic." Hermes said. Nicole's feelings were all over the place. She started daydreaming and choking up and smiling and blushing all at the same time.

She ripped the picture from the sketchbook and handed it to him.

"Have it then," Nicole said. "There's plenty more where it comes from."

* * *

Her pencil drifted across the corner of her meeting plan as Mrs. Léveillé, a very soft-speaking monotonous woman, elaborated on something Nicole couldn't recall for the life of her. She was too busy doing two other things: wondering what colour Mrs. Léveillé could wear to brighten up her figure that would match her greying hair tone, and sketching a horse galloping in the corner of her meeting plan.

She wasn't taking notes for the first time of her life.

* * *

"Good Morning Sugar and Milk."

She didn't even have to look up to know who she replied 'good morning' to. Obviously and quiet clearly it was Hermes.

"I got you some coffee," Hermes said handing her the cup. "Now don't freak, I've got to warn you... I know you're very steadfast, orderly and disciplined and all that but this one has…"

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Nicole said. She took a sip and savoured it. "Hmm. Very tasty. Half hot-cocoa right? It tastes chocolaty."

Hermes looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

* * *

She was miserable as she walked around with a watering can and watered the plants in the office. They were the only dots of colour against the grey of everything else- cubicles, walls, ceiling tiles, floor, folder cabinets…

"St-James," someone called.

_People._

"Stoll," Nicole corrected.

"Yes, yes," Mr Gagnon said. "Anyways I was looking for those notes you were to prepare for me, on tomorrow's case."

"They're on your desk, sir."

"No, no, no. Those were about the Culligan case."

"But you said Culligan," Nicole frowned.

"No, I said Carter," Mr Gagnon said.

"No sir, I distinctly remember you saying Culligan sir, but I have time to…"

"I'm sorry, who are you in this firm?" Mr Gagnon said crossing his arms.

Nicole's hands tightened into fists.

"Well I can tell you who I'm not," she said angrily. "I am not the careless boss who couldn't give a damn less or a damn more if he tried, the one who can't remember names right, the one who can't give instructions straight, the one who overloads everybody with crap until they are sick and tired of getting up in the morning. And I am not the university student following an internship essential to her graduation and law degree, because I am _done." _

She grabbed her coat and purse from her small office on her way out, and her marching out was followed by curious and amazed eyes peeking over cubicle walls and out of office doors.

* * *

She went up the subway steps and Hermes stopped playing when he spotted her.

"Hey," he said. "You're early. Are you sick? Did your building catch on fire? Boss die?"

"No," she said. "I… I kind of quit."

A string on his guitar snapped.

"You _quit?"_

"Yeah," Nicole laughed nervously. "Crazy eh? I just… I quit. I just did. I was tired and bored and I quit."

"You were bored in an office, eh?" Hermes asked.

"I don't know," Nicole said tugging at the belt on her trench coat. "I guess… I guess that I figured that out when I realised how robotic I was becoming. I was different as a kid. I liked running around and having fun. You reminded me of how fun that was, and I got a scare. I was losing that."

"What about work? And how you make money and how money is how you live?"

Nicole tugged on her belt even more. "I was hoping you could help me with that. You said I was a good artist and so… well, I was hoping you could help me set up a workshop or get into art school or something. Actually, just a workshop, I'm sick of school I want to do not learn to do."

Hermes smiled. "It would be my greatest pleasure, Nicole Stoll." He stood up and gave a ridiculous little bow that made her smile despite her nerves.

"Oh," Nicole said, "and also since today appears to be a day of me doing rash things thinking I won't regret them…"

She leaned in and kissed Hermes smack on the lips.


	51. First Print

**Happy Easter! I have nothing Easter related for you guys, but here's a cute family thing.**

**Also this kind of commemorates Richard Griffiths, the actor who played Uncle Vernon in the Harry Potter films. You played your role well and you were a swell guy who'll be missed, Mr Griffiths. And to take back his famous line "No post on Sundays", a lot of people are considering avoiding posting on social networking sites, so you're invited to look at that if you want.**

* * *

**First Print**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson, Paul and Genevieve Blofis**

"Did it get here?" Paul called from the kitchen.

"Show us, Mom!" Percy called. She tore open the package right at the door and smiled as she saw the cover. She looked at the book from all angles, smiling to herself.

"Mom!" Percy called again.

"Mama," Genevieve's tiny voice chimed in.

Sally wandered back into the kitchen and held up the first print of her book proudly. Even Genevieve caught on and clapped.

She handed it to Percy as Paul dried his hands from the dishwater. Percy moved Genevieve around so she was propped up on his hip and he could look at the book properly.

"That's a bada…" he glanced at Genevieve. "A cover I'd actually consider touching in a library," Percy said. That was the highest praise her son could give a book.

She had to admit it looked _very _good, and the title's font was fantastic. _The Affair of Spades _had tiny spades instead of the letter 'a', and the cover was a hand drawn man sporting a trench coat, playing cards swirling around him like leaves in an autumn wind.

Paul opened the book and read the summary.

"The death of Carter Hart shook the world of 1940 New Orleans like the war destroying Europe overseas. As the list of victims expands from Gustavo O. Fisher, the extravagant foreign painter cooking up storms in local galleries, to Eloise Tarot the famous dancer, the plot thickens at an alarming rate. The only clue police have are a series of blood-splattered, shot or muddy playing cards left in the hands of the victims. Is this serial killer playing a giant game with Detective Carlton Brown, or with New Orleans as a whole?"

Genevieve 'read the author profile' and it came out like: "Sally Jackson is my mommy and she wrote a book called the Afraid of Spades but it's not about Go Fish."

"Very close," Percy said, giving his sister a high-five.

Paul read the author profile out loud.

"Sally Jackson has known to read longer than she's known how to talk. _The Affair of Spades _is her first published novel but the tenth one she's completed. She lives in New York with her husband and two children."

Sally had to bite her lips to stop her smile from splitting her face.

"Can I read it? Is it going to get translated to Greek?" Percy asked. "Or should I wait until the movie?"

"Percy, if you do that your mother will disown you and I won't be able to stop her." Paul said.

"There won't be a movie," she mumbled, taking Genevieve from her son's arms.

"Oh there will _so _be a movie," Percy said. "And it's going to be so Hollywood famous that they're going to make Piper's dad be in it and they'll ruin the plot- it's a form of admiration for book-to-movie adaptations."

She shot him a look but Percy was smiling at her. "I'm really glad you finally wrote it, Mom."

She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "Me too, sweetheart. And I promise I'll translate it to Greek so you can read it."

"Mom, I'd read it anyways," he smiled. "Well, when Paul's done."

Paul already had his nose buried in her book.


	52. Medals

**Medals**

**In the style of Emily and Mei Zhang**

Emily was packing, which of course gave the house a center of gravity for everyone to rotate around. She walked in her room with her paperback copy of The Art of War in her hands. Frank was kneeling down in front of her wardrobe and looking at her dress uniform which hung from the handle, fitted onto a coat hanger.

"What are you looking at sweetie?" She asked putting down the book.

"Wasdat?" Frank asked pointing to it.

"That's Mommy's dress uniform," she said scooping up her two year old.

"No. Wasdat shiny?" He said pointing again. He was pointing at the medals.

"The medals, sweetie? Those are because Mommy did good at her job, like when Miss Katie gives you a sticker at school."

There was a sneer from the door.

"Did good at her job? No, no, no. Listen here Fai."

Emily spun around and saw her Mother standing in the doorframe. The old woman hobbled towards them and joined the huddle.

"When someone is brave and patriotic enough to join the army, they get this medal. If they get injured fighting they get this one called the Victoria Cross and I remember when she got this, your mother broke her leg at three different places while she was dragging an injured soldier over barbed wire fences and she had to be evacuated to two different places before they could finely treat her properly."

Her mother proceeded to name each medal by name, when Emily had gotten it, what she'd done for it, and how prodigious it was.

Emily had never realised she'd known.

"Now, that's an answer to your question. First she calls you a name that is as Chinese as French fries, then 'Mommy did good at her job', what next with your impossible mother, Fai?"

Frank chose silence as his best option and Emily couldn't agree more.

"Well, enough of that. Let's let your mother pack. Maybe I can find something to make you do so that you'll think that you're helping me make lunch." Mei said.

As soon as she put him down, Frank galloped downstairs, still too young to register anything but 'help make lunch', and Mei hobbled after him at a much slower pace. Emily starred at her for a while, still in shock.

But she'd be away for over a year this down. And in all these years, nor Emily nor Mei had ever spoken up. It was now or never to do so, and Emily went for 'now'.

"I didn't know you actually saw merit and value in my job," Emily said.

The old woman stopped on her way to the door.

"Of course I do," the old woman snapped turning back towards her. "You are my daughter. My only one. I have no choice but to be proud."

She marched out of the room but her fingers lingered on the door frame for a second too long for it to be an accident.

"And even if I had a choice, I would be proud of you," she said quickly before slipping away.


	53. Beautiful

**EMERGENCY CHAPTER h****as been initiated because I just got my puppy a day earlier than I expected to. Happiness is everywhere. He is cute and calm and attaching and I just have very strong feelings for my baby.**

**Anyways, here's your chapter.**

* * *

**Beautiful**

**In the style of Maria and Bianca di Angelo**

**For Lemariz**

"Mama," Bianca said.

"Yes love?" Maria said brushing through her daughter's dark hair.

"Am I going to be pretty one day?" Bianca said.

Maria's blood chilled.

"Love, why do you ask?" Maria answered casually. Bianca turned around to look at her. She was pale with eyes that seemed too big for her head, all dark and glum and too serious for a child. Maria supposed that the effect would be rather intimidating. Her hair was stringy and dark as night. Maria thought she was adorable, but that may be just because Bianca was hers. She wasn't your classic child, after all- which was fine as far as Maria was concerned, but the rest of the world... Well, they liked to make things their concern.

"Because Miss Trenton at school said that my mama was good-looking and that my dad was handsome. She said that I'd be pretty too one day, and I was wondering if that was true." Bianca said. "It seems awfully important."

Maria bit her lips. It made her blood boil how her five year old daughter, slowly creeping towards the age of six, was calling that her priority. It nearly insulted Maria how a teacher, who knew exactly what kind of risky and unconventional career she was thriving in, could only call her 'good-looking'. It outraged Maria that this little girl wasn't worrying about the war, the poor, the hungry or the state of her heart unlike all that Maria had tried to teach her. She was being taught how to worry about her outside already. It was hard to swim against the tide.

"Sweetheart, let me tell you what you're going to be," Maria said pulling Bianca onto her lap. "You will be courageous and kind. You will be smart and happy. You will be able to do whatever it is you want in this whole entire world and maybe even other worlds- maybe you'll go to the moon, love."

"So I'm not going to be pretty?" Bianca asked. She sounded a bit disappointed, but mostly confused.

"Bianca, if you're all of those things, than you will be beautiful." Maria said.

"Is that better?"

"You have no idea, love."


	54. Genevieve V

**So I quickly decided that I didn't want to reply to the same question in multiple reviews, so here's another chapter.**

**My puppy is a nine week old Maltese. His name is Argo (though I'm the only one who sees a meaning to the name, my family just thought it was cute). Right now we're letting him figure out how to step out of his crate and he's not liking it. He's very cute, very calm, and he's adapting fairly well.**

* * *

**Genevieve V**

**In the style of Percy and Sally Jackson**

Sally woke up. Something had caught her ear. She listened for Genevieve, but Paul had put her down twenty minutes ago. She should be fine, and she was. What Sally was hearing was… deeper. And it wasn't crying.

She got up and hugged her hoody closer to herself as she wandered into the hallway.

She stood in the middle of it. As she'd guessed, it came from Percy's room. She listened at the door for a minute. Panting, cloudy muttering –a mix of names, something about an ankle, random syllables, gasping, panting…

She opened the door gently. Percy's legs were halfway off the bed, he'd thrashed so much that his blankets had flown off and his sweatpants were twisted around him. His hair and face were beaded with sweat. He was shaking his head and arching his back and thrashing more violently than Sally had ever seen him. It looked like an epileptic seizure.

Sally walked towards him and lifted his legs back onto his bed.

He started yelling Jason's name and Sally winced, trying to remember what had happened to Jason during the quest.

She sat down next to him and ran her fingers through his hair softly, shushing him and whispering to him about each one of the seven and where they were in the world right then and how safe they truly were. He calmed down. Now he was just snoring.

She got up and just as she did he groaned and woke up.

"Mom?" He groaned.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I think you were just having a nightmare. You're okay Percy, just go back to sleep."

"Oh," Percy said. "Yeah, I was."

"Want to talk about it?"

"It was when Jason came to rescue us in Tartarus," Percy said. "When he flew in after the rope broke? And nearly just got sucked down in there. Gods, Mom, he wouldn't have lasted ten seconds in there on his own."

Sally sat down next to him and ran her fingers through his hair as he talked and talked. Then he was talking about Annabeth and how scared he'd been when she'd gone on her solo quest. He had faith in her, just not in the world. Then he was talking about when Piper had to charmspeak the giant away from Olympus, and how fragile her hold had been while she walked off alone. Now Leo was the subject of conversation, and that one time that he'd gone in after Nico in the automaton and had been in charge of fixing it and had nearly gotten trampled... Then when Hazel and Frank had been stuck in that flaming building, when they'd gone back for the kids stuck in there, and Leo hadn't been able to find them for the life of him. War story after war story, battle after battle, monster after monster… All the things he would have told her all in one shot if they'd gotten the time to sit down, but all the things they hadn't had time to talk about since he'd kept in because of Genevieve.

Two hours passed. Percy had exhausted himself talking. Sally kissed his forehead.

"I understand that it's not easy to live with all of that," she said softly. "I do. Memories you rather get rid of, horrible things you wish you could undo. But you'll have to learn, sweetheart. And until then, just remember that all of your people are safe and sound- including you."

Percy sighed.

"Right. Right, you're right Mom. Thanks." He said.

"Don't worry about it," Sally said softly. She tucked him in and turned the light next to his bed off.

She was walking out when he called her. She turned around.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for… coming. I'm sorry for waking you up; I know you can't sleep well because of Gen to begin with so..."

"Hey," Sally said smiling. "It doesn't matter which one of my babies is having a tough night. I will always get up."**  
**


	55. Gum

**Gum**

**In the style of Sammy Valdez**

Diego was whining her name as he walked around the workshop pointlessly. She slid out from under the car whose oil she was changing.

"_What?" _She asked.

"Oh there you are," he said. "Do you have any gum?"

Esperanza glared at him in disbelief like _seriously?_

"No." She said before going back to work.

"Anza…" He said kicking at her feet.

"Diego, I don't have gum!" She protested. "I gave my pack to Sebastian and he left it lying around and now I can't find it."

* * *

Miguel was changing tires and Diego called out to him, asking for gum.

"I don't have any," Miguel said.

"You're chewing stuff right now bro, don't mess with me." Diego said punching him in the arm. Miguel chased him away by spritzing the pneumatic drill towards him.

"It's to stop smoking dipshit, go away." Miguel said spritzing him again.

* * *

Diego found Sebastian who was putting tools away in the metallic cabinet.

"Seb," he called out to his brother.

"What?" Sebastian replied without even looking away from the cabinet.

"Do you have any gum?"

"No, I steal from Anza. Check with her."

"She doesn't have any."

"Sucks to be you, then."

"Does Dad have gum?" Diego asked hopefully

"I don't know."

"Kay," Diego said walking off.

* * *

"Dad," Diego called.

His father was with a client, so he held up a finger and handed the woman her credit card and her key.

"There you go ma'am, thank you very much and have a nice day." He said. The woman smiled and went to go get her car.

"What?" Dad said turning around.

"Do you have gum?" He asked.

"No," Dad said. "I can't find my pack."

"Damn."

Diego walked away. But now his dad wanted gum too.

* * *

"Samuel," David asked finding his son in the backroom, making coffee. He was so hung-over he shouldn't be working with tools, but Anza refused to work his shift as well as hers (again).

"Do you have gum?"

"No Dad," Samuel said.

"Really?" David asked. "You _always _have gum."

"Yeah, but not now." Samuel said.

"Really? Really?"

David got him in a headlock.

"Dad!" He protested.

"Cough it up," David said. Plus he was so hungover that he couldn't get out of it, so we was counting this as a life lesson too.

"I don't have any, my last pack's gone. There must have been a little kid waiting with his mom yesterday or something, I don't know." Samuel said.

"You mean you don't remember because you are _drunk." _

"Okay, okay, I won't do it again, everyone stop rubbing it in!" Samuel said. David let go of him laughing.

* * *

Sammy sat in his office smugly. Feeling quite proud of himself, he decided to screw over the no-sugar diet his daughters were putting him on and he reached into his drawer.

His hand hovered over all the different options before he settled for a pack of _Excel _that he must have stolen from Esperanza yesterday. He'd save David's _Trident _for tomorrow.


	56. Lullabies

**So I publish this early in answer to the anon who asked me about a oneshot featuring a plot where there's some lullabies required? I can't write that, I've got one already... sorry! Hope you enjoy this.**

* * *

**Lullabies**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson**

Sally was very tired and very tired of hearing her baby scream. The paper-thin walls would get the neighbours moaning about it anytime now.

She paced the bedroom, bouncing Percy up and down. Usually that was enough to soothe him, but he had a cold and was very unimpressed about it.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word," Sally sung. "Papa's gonna buy you a-"

The words caught in her throat.

"Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top  
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall  
And down will come baby, cradle and-"

Sally frowned. That wasn't right either. What was up with baby songs being so morbid?

"Ring around the rosy  
A pocketful of posies  
"Ashes, Ashes"  
We all fall down.

Ring-a-Ring o'Rosies  
A Pocket full of Posies-"

She remembered that song being about the Black plague. God, really?

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star,  
How I wonder what you are!  
Up above the world so high,  
Like a diamond in the sky!

When the blazing sun is gone,  
When he nothing shines upon,  
Then you show your little light,  
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,  
Thanks you for your tiny spark,  
He could not see which way to go,  
If you did not twinkle so."

Yes. Perfect. That one was okay.


	57. Fangs

**So... This is new. I'm skipping a generation here!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own two of the following characters.**

* * *

**Fangs**

**In the style of Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque**

Frank knew better than to interfere with Hazel when she was trying to get Jade to go to bed. If he did, she would kill him later.

"No, I don't wanna," the little girl said holding onto the balustrade's post like a castaway who had found a buoy.

"Jade, this isn't a choice." Hazel said using that special voice she had with the kids; she was calm and pleasant and soft, but strict and definite at the same time. "It's time to go to bed. You even got to stay up for ten extra minutes tonight. Please go upstairs like I've asked you two times already."

"I don't wanna I don't gotta," the five year old ranted.

"Jade, this is the last time I'm going to ask. I'm going to get impatient." Hazel repeated.

"I don't wanna."

"I'm going to count to three," Hazel said.

Even as a grown man Frank knew that this was code for _Styx is going to go down._

"One…" Hazel said.

Jade whined some more and stomped on the floor.

"Two…"

Jade opened her mouth and hissed at Hazel. It would have been rude on its own, but her teeth had grown long and sharp canines poked from her lips. Just for a second they took on the fang-like appearance, and then it was just Jane being moody.

Hazel looked shocked.

"Jade Mary-Emily Zhang what..?"

"Okay, out of luck kiddo." Frank said jumping in. He scooped up Jade and caught her by surprise so she let go. She was kicking and screaming and generally throwing a fit, but Frank had a solid grip. She was pretty upset because usually Frank didn't have to discipline her, so this was new territory.

He sat her down in her bed until she screamed her throat raw, which seemed to make her realise that she shouldn't scream because it just hurt her. Then he managed to convince her to put on her pyjamas, he brushed her teeth and hair, he had her apologise to Hazel for being grumpy and rude, and then he tucked her in.

"Jade?" He asked pulling the blankets up to her chin, so she was nice and cozy like she liked it. "Do you know what you did to Mommy earlier?"

She shook her head. "I was rude."

"Other than that?" Frank asked.

She shrugged.

"Okay sweetie," he said. She was clueless. They were safe.

He kissed her forehead.

"Love you," he said on his way out.

"Daddy!" She called in a panic. He turned around. "Is my night light on?"

"Yes," Frank said.

"Okay," Jade said settling down again. Frank waited a minute before closing the light, shutting the door slightly and heading downstairs.

Hazel was sitting in an armchair, drumming her fingers against the armrest. She got up when he walked into the living room.

"Your DNA is making my children so weird." She said.

"Yes, and I apologise for that but technically my DNA made your children children, so you should be at least somewhat thankful." Frank said.

Hazel hesitated and pulled on the scarf she wore. "Does she know yet?"

"Nope. It looks like it was an accident." Frank said.

Hazel sighed. She shook her head, but a smile hung on her lips. "I swear, Jamie's going to show me gator teeth next week when I don't let him have sugary snacks before bedtime, and the week after that they'll grow whiskers when I wake them up in the morning."


	58. Eyes

**Eyes**

**In the style of Evan Marlowe and Athena**

"Hey man, it's Marc."

A hand closed around Evan's shoulder. He spun around and tottered around for a second before the hand stabilised him.

"How are you?" Evan asked.

"I've got a black eye."

"What the hell did you go out and do to yourself?" He asked. He was smiling anyways- this was typical Marc. So typical that it hurt.

"Hmm- not something you say on campus." Marc said. "Here, give me your arm."

Evan put his hand just above Marc's elbow and off they went towards their class. Marc wouldn't tell him about the black eye, but he had a million things to say about everything else in the entire world.

"You do know we have a test today, right?" Evan reminded Marc.

"I'm distracting myself." Marc said. "Like, really badly. Hey, did you know how pineapples grow? It's really weird, I thought it was in a tree but actually they pop out of the ground like daisies."

"Fantastic," Evan said.

"All these leaves are spread around them like petals or whatever. It's wild."

"You're talking about the growth cycle of pineapples," Evan said with a smile. "Boy, you mustn't have studied for this test at all."

Marc laughed nervously. His hands were sweaty.

"Nope. Political science isn't my thing after all, I've decided. It's a little late to figure that out though… Anyways, how are you taking the test?"

"Apparently they found a reader," Evan shrugged.

"This late at night?" Marc said surprised. "Wow."

"They're shipping me to the library with whoever this person is." Evan said. "Bless them, whoever it is."

He hated taking tests late because there wasn't a reader who could read and write his answers down for him. Most of the people in his class thought that it was cool how he had more time to study, but really he was just bored while he waited.

In class, it took about two seconds for the professor, Dr Curtis to call out "Mr Marlowe!"

Marc led Even to his desk.

"Good evening sir," Evan said.

"Good evening to you too," Dr Curtis said. "I'll take you to the library before class starts. Your reader is waiting there with a copy of the test. Do you want me to… err… lead you?"

Evan snapped his cane back to its full length.

"No thank you sir, I'll be okay. Good luck, Marc."

"Not in front of the teacher," Marc grumbled.

Dr Curtis was quiet as they crossed the campus. It didn't take a thousand watts to realise that he wasn't comfortable around Evan. Very few teachers were, regardless of kindness and openness and acceptance. Evan was used to it; he'd been around enough people in his life.

"So Mr Marlowe, what are you planning to do after this semester with you master's in hand?"

"I'd like to work for the department of foreign affairs, sir." Evan said. "I also have a BA in African studies, so I'm hoping that it'll serve me well."

"It should from my experience."

"Then I don't see why it wouldn't," Evan said. Maybe that was low... Dr Curtis wasn't a bad man; he was actually doing his best which couldn't be said for all of Evan's teachers. Many of them were uncomfortable with the career Evan was lining up to and the chances he had in succeeding in any of them. Politics was a tough field after all.

Maybe one day blindness wouldn't make people uneasy, but today was not that day for anyone in the world.

However, it was as if people were afraid of telling Evan that, and at the same time they were afraid of giving him the tools he'd need to even try to get into hard jobs. Evan wanted to laugh sometimes. It wasn't like he didn't know that he'd have to fight to get what he wanted in the world. That's how he'd gotten into universities in Austin and Washington anyways. That's how every single student had all gotten in.

Evan's cane hit the door before Dr Curtis could warn him. He pushed the handicap button for it to swing open.

Dr Curtis led him by the elbow to a small room in the back of the library. A door opened.

"_A Tale of Two Cities _again, Thea? Weren't you reading that last week?" Dr Curtis called out.

"There is such a thing as rereading, sir." A woman answered in a very stoic voice.

He heard a chair scrape the ground as someone got up.

"Your copy's annotated, I see. By whom?"

"Not important," the woman said. She had a very dry voice, logical and clear without being robotic. It was nice.

"Mr Marlowe, let me introduce you to Miss Thea Malcolm. She will be your reader from now on, and has been providing the service to the school for as long as one can remember. Thea, Mr Evan Marlowe."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Evan said holding out his hand.

"The pleasure is mine," Thea said shaking it.

"I'll leave you two be, then. Thea, you know the drill once the test is written."

"Yes sir."

"Thank you. Have a nice evening."

The door closed behind Dr Curtis.

"Here's the back of your chair," Thea said taking Evan's hand and placing it on the back of his chair. He felt like he'd just gotten an electric shock.

"Thank you very much," Evan said sitting down.

Thea sat down at the same time as he did, and she pulled a machine across the table. *

"I'll read the questions to you once the time starts and commit the answers you dictate to me to paper via typewriter." Thea said.

"I know, I've done this before." Evan said. He leaned back in his chair. "A Tale of Two Cities, eh? It's supposed to be good."

"You haven't read it? I highly suggest that you do."

"Not a big fan of Dickens," Evan shrugged. "A Christmas Carol terrified me as a child."

"Well of course the horrid movie adaptations would, but the book itself is excellent."

"No, it's the story itself that did me in. Ghosts kidnapping you and dropping you off in random places in your timeline? That just seems like a time loop waiting to happen."

"I suppose, although Dickens had little to nothing to do with science fiction or concepts such as time travel."

"It still scares the life out of me," Evan said. "I'm used to imagining things. Often I add on to stories, make them freakier. It may be my fault after all."

"I suppose that that is logical."

This woman was starting to remind him of Spock too much.

"If I may ask, when did you become blind?" Thea asked.

"I had this really rare cancer," Evan said. The question was direct, but he liked it better that way than ultra courteous and sugar-coated. "They had to remove one eye and the other just kind of short-wired so to speak."

"Unfortunate," Thea said. "I'm sorry about all the trouble the people in this department must be giving you because of it."

Evan frowned. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Or else it would have been easier to find a reader for you," Thea said. "And you wouldn't be stuck with me."

"How am I stuck with you? I like you fine."

"That's appreciated," Thea said. Definitely Spock. "Your time appears to be starting."

"Oh, okay. Question one, sure," Evan said.

* * *

**Twenty bonus points and a oneshot dedicated to whoever can guess who the character in this story is/becomes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Also I do not personally know someone who is blind, so forgive and correct any inaccuracies I may have.**


	59. Pins

**Hello! Most of you guessed last chapter right- that was Malcolm's parents. Not easy, but it was an experiment :P The winner's oneshot should be out soon, enjoy the remains of your weekend!**

* * *

**Pins**

**In the style of Marie and Hazel Levesque**

**For I am that Writer**

Her newest client was a spooked, superstitious and rich woman. Marie was certain that she'd come back shortly for another reading of tarot cards, or for more thrown knuckle bones soon. Just in case though, she walked her down to the street where a taxi was waiting to scoop her up and back to where she could go perch herself on her husband's arm and smile pretty, most likely in a rich mansion in the suburbs. The key to being a _good _'fraud' was to be able to read people well, so that you know which strings to pull.

When she went back to the apartment she walked in on her daughter poking a tiny dummy with needles. Her heart stopped.

"No, no, no, no, no-Hazel, Hazel," Marie exclaimed suddenly, kneeling down next to her daughter and tugging the things out of her hands.

She looked up at her mother with startled gold eyes.

"Don't do that." Marie said. "Pins are for dark magic."

"They are?" Hazel asked.

"Yes," Marie said. "They are to hurt people, just like if I put a pin in your finger you would be hurt. Don't you ever do that again."

The eight year old's shoulders sunk. "Oh. So I've been doing it wrong?"

"Pardon?" Marie asked with a frown.

"Well, I was trying to make you love me with magic, but I was using pins. So I made you hate me. You were right all along. It is my fault you can't love me."

For a second Marie's heart melted. Was this seriously what? No… Oh, Hazel…

Then suddenly she got angry. She was Marie Levesque. She ran a business on her own, she had been left multiple times by multiple people and she worked the longest hours in New Orleans to put food on the table for this unlucky, cursed and bastard child that could only make her guilty. No. Marie Levesque did not melt for anyone.

"Yes. Now go to your room and do your homework, I want you out of sight before the next client rings the doorbell."


	60. Camp Half-Dead

**I lost my USB key so I'm lost in life right now so while I hyperventilate, have this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters.**

* * *

**Camp Half-Dead**

**In the style of Sally Jackson, Esperanza Valdez and Emily Zhang**

"Anza, new counsellor's up." She heard someone call.

Sally rubbed her eyes and opened them. The light hurt at first, but she blinked the black spots away.

"Hey," someone next to her said. She turned her head and saw a woman with frizzy black hair tied up with a bandanna Her eyes were a warm brown colour and she wore a bright red t-shirt with a jumble of yellow Greek letters printed on the chest.

"Hello," she said blinking heavily.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Horrible," Sally confessed.

"Here, have some water. Trust me, you think that it won't go or stay down, but it'll help," the other woman in the cabin said handing her a bottle. Sally nodded her thanks and forced herself to sit up. She looked around the cabin- it was tiny, and had two sets of plain old bunk beds painted dark green.

"Where..? What is this place?" Sally asked.

"Camp Half-Dead," the woman who'd handed her the water said.

The first woman raised her hands impatiently. Her face looked older than it probably was.

"Well that wasn't delicate at all, Emily."

"Camp _what?" _Sally asked.

"Sweetie, there are two things that are going to be very alarming to you," she said. "My name's Esperanza, Anza, and try not to hate me for breaking it to you, okay?"

Anza gave her a smile before continuing.

"First off, that's not what this place is called. We're in the Underworld, at a camp for children of the gods who die before they get claimed, before they know they're a demigods."

Sally frowned. She tried to locate in her memory something that Chiron, Percy, Annabeth or Poseidon may have told her about this place.

"The second pretty alarming thing is that you're dead, sweetie."

Sally choked. "What?"

"You're dead," Esperanza said. "I'm not the person to explain to you what happened or why, but it is what it is. And in the meantime your application to Elysium got fast-forwarded…"

"Elysium?" Sally asked.

"The home of the heroes," Emily said.

"I know what it is but... but _what?" _

"You must've been a fantastic human, congratulations." Esperanza said. "Anyways, your application got fast-forwarded to Elysium for whatever reason, and someone up there on Olympus thought you might be interested in being a counselor so ta-dah, here you are."

"I… I don't…" Sally shook her head trying to find her bearings. Up, down, left, right, black, white- she didn't particularly care but she just needed to know _something. _What had happened? Had she been alone or should she be worrying about Paul? Or even Percy? No- she was dead; definitely worry about Paul anyways.

"Give yourself a few seconds to breathe," Emily suggested.

Finally Sally had her mind wrapped around the concept.

"Better?"

Sally wasn't sure what to answer.

"How about we give you a tour?" Esperanza said. "Our cabins are on autopilot right now, they're out by the lake- we'll take you."

And so Sally got a tour.

She walked out of the cabin. The grass was as green as it was supposed to be in movies and cartoons, and it was cut through by little paths spawning from a big one. They led to cabins built in no particular order. As Emily and Anza led her down the path through a forest that led to the main block of buildings, Sally tried to piece together what had happened.

She'd been home alone one night; Paul was with the foreign exchange program that week. Then the doorbell had rung, Sally had peeped through the peeping hole and she'd seen the monsters and whatnot... She'd been about to run down the fire escape when the door flew off its hinges. The monsters were rasping about hostages and prisoners and leverage, and they just grabbed her. But one was too rough and she remembered hearing a snap…

Sally rubbed her shoulder. Her neck started hurting.

"Are you remembering?" Emily asked, noticing with a keen eye. She put a hand on Sally's good shoulder. "It's rough, so be gentle to yourself okay? I mean it."

"Alright," Sally said looking around nervously. The trees cleared up and the main area had a seemingly totally unnecessary parking lot, a bigger cottage with stairs leading up the steps, and a play structure hidden in the trees.

There were also hebertism structures, and by craning her neck Sally saw a whole treetop network of paths and structures on which kids giggled and focused not to trip and ran.

"I still don't understand what this place is," Sally said. "Emily called it Camp Half-Dead?"

"That's its street name," Anza said shooting her friend a look. "Really this place is called Camp Elysium. The kids –and some counselors even- just think they're hilarious by calling it that."

"Whoa- tell me more about the kids. Are thet..?" She didn't want to say it.

Both of the counselors nodded.

"They die, we take them in, train them, there are activities, we explain to them what happened to them and why it did. Eventually if they want to be reborn, we help them with that too. I don't want to sound like a marketer here, but it's really a great program."

"It's where I'd have wanted my son to go if –gods forbid- something would have happened," Emily said.

"You're parents to demigods?" Sally asked.

"Everyone here is," Esperanza said. "They fish out people from the pool of dead parents and offer us cabins. For example my son Leo-"

"Leo Valdez?" Sally asked.

"You know him?" Anza frowned.

"Yeah, there's a quest going on and my son is indirectly involved but… it's complicated." Sally said. "I know Leo, though."

"How is he?" Anza asked. Her face melted a bit.

"He's okay. He's busy working on a project, but I think he likes having his hands full. It's a flying boat."

They both looked at Sally, stunned.

"The details are a bit foggy, but it's a really big thing going on with the demigods. I'll explain later."

"Wait, wait, wait-" Emily said. "Might this quest have anything to do with why our numbers are off the charts lately?"

"What do you mean?" Sally frowned.

"Well, a lot of really young kids have been coming in," Emily said. "Like, preschool age."

"The doors of death are open," Sally said. "Monsters either don't get killed or come back seconds later."

"Oh geez," Esperanza said running a hand through her hair. She muttered in what Sally recognised as Spanish and could faintly translate to 'why my son?'

"That explains it," Emily said. "Well, we can tell Jim at the Counselor Meet tonight. You can, if you're going to be there."

"I still don't understand what you mean 'be a counselor'."

"Well, who's your son?" Emily asked. "Who's his father?"

"His name is Percy," Sally said. She felt sick at the thought of never seeing him again. "He's a son of Poseidon."

They looked at Sally stunned.

"As in the Prophecy child," Emily said.

"Yes," Sally sighed. "_Exactly_ as in the prophecy child."

"Son of a gun he must've been a fun child," Esperanza said.

Sally bit back a smile.

"Well, then you're up for the counselorship of Cabin One," Emily said. "We can show you. There are about twelve kids. A lot of them have been choosing rebirth and there haven't been any additions in a long time."

"Twelve kids who died before…"

"Twelve children of the Big Three who died before they were claimed," Emily said. "And yes, we know how awkward it is to take care of your own ex's cabin, don't worry, don't worry."

"Let's show you the grounds first," Esperanza said.

The place seemed really nice. The big cottage they walked right in front of was the mess hall. There were play structures crawling with little ones, fitness trails like low ropes and zip lines in the trees on which demigods were climbing and struggling to stay on. There was a big sandbox in which sandcastles were being made, destroyed, and their ruins fought over. There was a little shed that held equipment like snowshoes and boogie boards according to Emily, and another that contained armour. In an open clearing to the path's right, kids were standing a fair distance apart and wielding spears. A man in front was showing them thrusts and such.

"Carlos!" Emily yelled. The man looked up.

"That's Colonel Carlos to you, Zhang!" The man called up.

"That's Captain Zhang to you!" She yelled back. She winked and they went on.

"Sorry I have to do that," Emily said. "We were on base together once, although he's American. Our flings were siblings on Olympus; Mars and Bellona. We think that at least one of his daughters knows my son now."

"You were in the army?" Sally asked.

"To the death, pun intended." Emily said. "Don't ask me to wear my hair up and you won't notice a thing, though."

"Wait- you can see the injury you died of?" Sally winced.

"Sometimes," Esperanza said. "My hands are pretty charred. My skin's pinkish on my legs, hence why I wear jeans. Why?"

"How's my neck?" Sally asked.

Emily had a look.

"You have one hell of a scar on the back. I suggest you find a cover story for when the kids ask- they will ask."

"Mine is that I was exploring a volcano that was the traditional home of a hellhound pack, and when they found me they didn't want to eat me because I told them that I was spicy, and so I got pushed into the lava," Esperanza said.

"I don't have one," Emily said. "I tell my kids that I was an infantry soldier because they're all warlike and prideful. It gets their respect."

Sally rubbed her neck again.

"Is my eye black?"

"No, why?" Esperanza asked.

Sally sighed. At least there was that.

"Sally, were you beaten to death?" Emily asked.

She grimaced. "Somewhat."

"How?" Emily asked.

"Ex-husband," Sally said slowly. "He came back from the dead with a bunch of monsters and I… I guess Gaia sent him after me to get to my son, I don't really know."

"Oh my gods, was he your ex for long, are you still wearing the ring?" Esperanza asked taking Sally's hand.

"No that's… Not him." Sally said. Her throat tightened. Paul and Percy were still out there. Or at least with a little luck they were.

Emily put her arm around Sally.

"That's horrible. If you want to talk we're here, if you don't we're here too, got it? Dying is a shock. Like Anza said, be cool about it with yourself. It wasn't your fault."

Sally sighed. It wasn't like she wasn't _used _to Gabe hitting her, it was just the knife in the throat that was new. Then again, she'd never tried to fight back. She'd always let him, for Percy's sake- so that had been new too.

They toured camp some more and not another word was said about anything. Anza and Emily were obviously pouring in extra energy to distract Sally.

They crept up a sidewalk to a cabin that stood on its own, made out of light wood with cherry red door and shutters. The number hanging on the door was 0.

"Who's this cabin to?" Sally asked, frowning. It felt weird to have this one away from the others.

"Not to any particular god," Emily said. "It's… well, you'll see."

She opened the door quietly, and Esperanza followed Sally inside. The music was soft and the light was down quite a bit. The room was lined with cribs and basins- all different styles. Some were modern with mobiles dangling over them. Others were old, simple wooden. Others had elaborate bars and headboards.

Two women were sitting in rocking chairs or armchairs, holding bottles to babies. A man was walking around, shushing a baby he held.

"Sally, meet Tania, Nadia and Olivier," Emily said.

Sally was too busy looking around.

"What is this place?" She asked feeling sick.

"Demigods who died in infancy," Esperanza said. She put a hand on Sally's shoulder and squeezed. It didn't make her feel much better, but she'd probably feel worst if Esperanza hadn't done that.

"All of them?" Sally asked. "All of these… There must be twenty of them."

"Twenty one," the man said coming closer. "We have had hell of a year. I'm Olivier by the way."

Sally's hands covered her mouth and nose, but she managed to say tell him her name. She thought of every single dangerous incident Percy had had as a child, every single time she'd been walking with him and had spotted a monster around, every single brush with the mythological world that she'd pulled him from… One slip and he'd have ended up here. Maybe in this nursery, maybe to whichever one of the cabins Poseidon had- Cabin One, so they said.

"This is…" Sally asked shaking her head. Her eyes were getting teary.

"We can go out," Emily said. "I nearly cried the first time I came in here; not a single counselor here hasn't."

"They're so young…" Sally said.

"The youngest," Olivier nodded. "Our youngest, Louis-Philippe, is two months old. He was born in France. That's why he was in so much trouble- the mist is much thicker that far away from the gods. His poor mother couldn't see through it well enough to… You get the idea."

Sally's stomach churned.

"Emily's got the touch with him, she speaks French. He must find it comforting." Olivier said. "I'm a child psychologist- I think children recognise things like language much better than we think."

"For how long do they stay here?" Sally asked.

"Until their first birthdays, then they go to their regular cabins." Olivier said.

"So children grow here despite the...?"

"Some. We give them a month's time to see. Or else we take them to the river Lethe and they are reborn. It's a much kinder fate…" Olivier's voice cracked. "Sorry. That's just what happened to my daughter. Child of Athena."

"Is this why you always need help here?" Sally asked looking around.

"One of the reasons," Olivier said. A baby started crying and Esperanza beat the other counselors to his crib.

"And are the counselors… are you here forever? Is this a definite choice?"

"No, no." Emily said. "They come and leave. I worked in this cabin until the counsellor for Mars/Ares left, actually. Our counselor for the Big Three cabins left just recently, as a matter of fact."

"The Big Three cabins are all together?" Sally asked.

"Yeah, they stopped having children –well, mostly-, right? The cabins stopped filling up when kids were more than eighteen, or when they chose to be reborn. Jim, our director, made an executive decision to smash the three together." Olivier said.

"But who's with them?" Sally asked.

Emily sighed. "Whoever has time."

Sally was horrified.

"I'll do it," she said. "They can't be alone- no, that's ridiculous. I can… I can sign up as counselor."

Emily and Olivier smiled. Olivier clapped her on the back.

"Then welcome to Camp Half-Dead, Sally."


	61. Codes

**Codes**

**In the style of Leo and Esperanza Valdez**

**For My5tic-Lali**

Leo tossed his schoolbag onto the floor when they walked back home and bee-lined for his room, without stopping by the kitchen for a snack.

"_Mijo?" _Esperanza called. Leo didn't reply, and so Esperanza followed him.

He was sitting on his bed, hands folded over his lap and head bowed donw.

"Leo, are you okay?" She asked sitting down next to him. He looked hurt.

"The kids at school are calling me a baby."

"Uh oh," Esperanza asked. "Why is that?"

"Because of the notes in my lunch box," Leo said miserably. Esperanza knew the ones- she folded them in four and slipped them between two containers of snacks, or wrote it on the tinfoil his sandwich was wrapped with. It could be anything- corny jokes that she'd saved for him, 'I love you', 'have a nice day', 'good luck on your math test'…

"I'm sorry," Esperanza said rubbing his back. "I can stop putting them in, then. It'll be okay, _mijo." _

"No," Leo said. "I want those notes."

"Hmm," Esperanza said. Thankfully her problem-solving skills were out of this world, so the solution came by very quickly. "I'd have to write you notes that nobody else could read."

"Like, in Chinese?"

"Mandarin, sweetheart, not Chinese." Esperanza said. "And _I _don't speak Mandarin, so that's silly."

"But we learn Spanish at school and there are kids in my class who speak Spanish." Leo said.

"What about a code?" Esperanza said. "I can show you one. I'm sure you'll get it quickly."

"What is it?"

"Morse code," Esperanza said. "Watch and listen, okay?"

And she started tapping on her lap right away.

* * *

.. / .-../-/…-/. / -.-/-..-/..-/…/-/-/..-/-.-./….

-/-/-


	62. Night Lights

** was being stupid and not letting me write in Morse code. The real message at the end of the last chapter was "I love you. -Mom". I wanted to let you guys know because everyone seems curious- so here's another chapter since I refuse to post A/N chapters. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Night Lights**

**In the style of Athena and Frederic Chase**

**For KaraokeLeo **

**Three years old**

Annabeth curled up next to him.

"Annabeth?" He said softly.

"Yes." She whispered back.

"Are there shadows in your room again?" Frederic asked.

"Uh-huh," Annabeth said softly. She wouldn't admit it for the life of her, gods knew that she was too prideful, but they terrified her.

"Okay, I have something for you." Frederic said getting up and switching his light on.

"A present? At three in the morning?"

"A very useful gift at three in the morning," he said turning to look at his daughter, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. She looked perfectly collected and awake- at three in the morning, as previously mentioned. He wasn't exactly annoyed, but he didn't think that a soul in the world was happy to be up at three in the morning learning that their kid couldn't sleep.

He reached under his bed, took Annabeth's hand, and walked her back to her room. She curled up in her bed and he bundled her up.

Frederic plugged in the night light and sat down next to her.

"This is a night light. It'll show just a bit of light, so that you can still sleep but you won't be afraid of the dark."

"I'm not afraid of the dark," she said, offended.

"Just so that there aren't any shadows, then." Frederic said. Annabeth nodded as if that explanation was acceptable. It was too early to be prideful, but too late at night to protest against it.

"Alright, you can still come get me if there's a problem."

_But there shouldn't be. And now that I know where they sell non-pink, non-Cinderella night lights it won't be so complicated anymore. _

**Four years old**

He was halfway through a quick breakfast that he should have gotten through ten minutes earlier when Annabeth came down the stairs. He raised his hand to say hello, and she pulled up the chair right in front of him.

"Daddy I made an important decision."

"Did you now?" Frederic asked gulping a piece of toast that Jade had made him. Thank the gods someone had it figured out when food was necessary. He owed her fifty-nine.

"Yes," she said. She put the night light up in front of him.

"I don't need this anymore," she declared.

"You don't?"

"No," Annabeth said.

"Okay, you can put it in one of your drawers."

"That's where my books go." Annabeth said.

"Then you can put it in one of my drawers," Frederic said. "It's okay."

**Six years old**

Jade pointed out that his tie didn't go with his shirt or something in the likes and that this may be a problem, and so he was walking back into the room, distracted. But of course he noticed Annabeth rummaging through the drawers.

"Hey kiddo, what are you looking for?" He asked sliding the wardrobe open.

"The night light," she said.

He turned back to look at her. She stood on her tiptoes to see inside the drawer.

"The dark…"

Annabeth gave him a look.

"The shadows are back?" He finished.

She nodded.

"That's tough," he said. "It's in the bottom drawer, sweetheart. Between the two farthest piles of essays."

**Seven years old…**

Frederic walked into the bedroom to check on her, as he did every night. At first glance he saw a lump on the bed and assumed it was her, but that's when he noticed something weird. The pillows were upside down- she always kept the one whose cover was missing underneath the other one. That was inverted tonight.

He crept into the room and saw Annabeth, lying flat on her stomach, holding a book underneath the night light, hidden by the bed. Or should he say reading light?

He coughed and she spun around quickly, scared out of her skin. Her eyes sprawled when she saw him.

"Annabeth I have a question for you and I want the right answer," he said. Right answer had more weight than truth in her mind, or at least it did for now. "Have you ever been afraid of the dark?"

Annabeth paused for a second and then shook her head. "No. It's just that the people at my school used to make fun of kids who had night lights. Then I decided that I cared more about reading than I did about them."

Frederic chewed on his lip.

"Alright, you got me. You got me good- so I'm letting you get away with this for another week. After that, no more night light understood?"

Annabeth nodded, a smile on her lips.

Frederic shrugged. What? He'd reward her for intelligence if she showed it, which she undoubtedly did.


	63. Legends II

**I'm sorry about the huge wait for this chapter, I just... I don't even know, actually, it just ended up taking forever. I was sick this week.**

**Let me know if you like the Legends idea. Do you want more or are you done with these?**

* * *

**Legends II**

**In the style of Piper and Tristan McLean**

"Piper, aren't you bored?" Tristan asked. She'd been sitting on the couch for thirty minutes, not even glancing at the homework in front of her. Her mouth was set tightly and her eyes were murderous.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

He raised an eyebrow and she looked away.

"I'm sorry for snapping," she said.

"What's wrong?" Tristan asked sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Nothing."

"Don't tell me that. You've been miserable all week, and now you don't even read or walk around or flip through channels pointlessly. It's a new level of miserable."

Piper's lip was shaking. "Nothing."

He tried to think through everything that could go wrong.

"Did you get a detention at school?"

That made her upset all the time.

"No."

"Did someone make fun of you?"

"No."

"Has something happened to a friend? Or with a friend?"

Piper's frown became deeper.

"Jessica, hmm?" He said. He recognised Piper's _Jessica and I had a fight _face- those two were best friends since they'd started kindergarten together.

Piper took a deep breath. He opened his arms and she burrowed against his chest.

"We argued about a project- we were missing a part and we lost a ton of points for it but we can't decide who was supposed to do it and she called me a name and I called her a name…"

Third grade and vulgar names were starting. _Great. _

"Pipes don't worry. Calm down. This happens all the time, even when you're an adult at work. Have you tried apologising to her? At least for the name-calling part?" Tristan asked.

"No," Piper said. "She has to apologise first. She started it."

"Aw, Pipes, that's not the way you should think about it," Tristan said.

"I don't care. Jessica and I are never going to talk again, it doesn't matter." Piper said.

"I'm sure you will. Sometimes all you need during a fight is to take a little break, so you can cool off on your own." Tristan said. Piper wasn't convinced, she was still stuck in a swarm of thoughts that probably weren't very good.

"Let me tell you a story," Tristan said. Piper snuggled up against him again, and froze to listen.

"In the beginning of the world, two people were created. First Man and First Woman, and they lived happily in a lodge at the very edge of a forest so dense and full of creatures and animals, it was like living on the coast of an endless sea. You see it? Pretty cool place.

One day, a fight broke out- like they always do when men or women are involved. Except fights can get incredibly ugly when men _and _women are involved, trust me on this Piper, and First Woman finally decided to leave. She walked down a path that was heading for the west.

It took a while for First Man to calm down. What really did it was when the day grew late and he started worrying about the absence of his loved one. He went looking for her down that very same road. The Sun, who had watched First Woman leave, got worried and asked First Man who he was looking for. When he explained what had happened, the Sun asked First Man if he missed First Woman. First Man quickly said that of course he did. She was his world, the only good thing he could see on this side of the horizon."

"How can you see on the other side of the horizon though?" Piper asked.

"You can't, that's his point."

"Oh. Sorry, carry on." Piper said. Tristan ruffled her hair.

"The Sun then set off to go find First Woman. He found her, farther down the path than First Man ever could have gotten down before dark. To make her stop and talk to him, the Sun grew blueberries on the path. Lush, juicy blueberries bigger than any you've ever seen- the kind that's too good to put on pancakes Pipes."

Piper nodded. That she understood.

"First Woman was too mad to pay attention and stop to look. Even further down the path, the Sun caused blackberries to grow. Black, juicy and plump- the kind that grows in a forest and that you can't find in little plastic boxes in supermarkets."

"Like the ones that Rose always has at home?"

"Even better than those," Tristan said. "But still, First Woman just walked on muttering under her breath about how upset she was.

So the Sun caused another fruit to grow- except this time it was a fruit that had never grown on the earth before. That got First Woman's attention. She stopped and examined the fruit. The leaves were greener than any other kind of leaf, and it had tiny white flowers blossoming all over the plant. These berries were thick and startlingly red, and they smelled as sweet as they were. First Woman decided that they were safe to eat, and so she plucked one and took a small, tiny bite. It was the most delicious berry she'd ever tasted, and so she sat down to finish it and even have more."

"Dad, is that how strawberries started growing?"

"You bet," Tristan said. "Anyways, as she ate First Woman started to calm down and think. Her thoughts drifted towards her husband, and she realised that she missed him now. Imagine how much she'd miss him if she kept going! No, she wouldn't do it, she decided. She got up again and picked some more of the gorgeous and delicious berries- as much as she could carry. She and First Man shared the berries when she returned to the lodge after about half a day's trek. Apologies were exchanged, they kissed to seal the deal and they walked back inside for the night, hand in hand."

Piper was looking at her hands. A friendship bracelet –one that she and Jessica had traded- hung around her wrist. She was clearly thinking, but she wasn't saying a word.

"Maybe this week was just like the strawberry bush," Piper said. "Time to think and cool off."

"Maybe," Tristan agreed. "Apologising first or second doesn't make you a better or worse or needier person. It just means you had the good sense not to let a friendship die out because of a misunderstanding. Doesn't that just sound nicer than pride?"

"Yeah," Piper said. She got up. "Can I go walk to Jessica's before supper?"

"Of course," Tristan said.

"I really hope she's not mad anymore… I hope I can still apologise. I hope it's not too late."

"An apology is never too late when you mean it," Tristan said.

"Oh good," Piper sighed. "Thanks Dad. That makes a lot of sense."

"No problem," Tristan smiled at her as she ran out the door.

He stared around the living room where he sat alone. He liked the way his life had turned out, mostly because he loved his daughter with all his heart. But this was not exactly where he'd pictured himself nine years ago when he'd met Amelia and found out that she was going to have a baby.

"I wish I'd had that sense, Piper." He said quietly before getting up and going back to getting supper for two on the table.


	64. Generation Gap

**I need to let everyone know that this was totally inspired by the most magnificent Avenger's post ever published on Tumblr, about Steve and Tony,s differences when it came to perceiving the government and war and et cetera.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.**

* * *

**Generation Gap**

**1940**

Hazel was walking home from school with Sammy. He had a pencil up each nostril and insisted that they'd stay that way until he got home, so now Hazel had to follow him there just to make sure. Also to make sure that he didn't get beat up.

The pencils fell, and so they just sat down on a park bench while he mourned the loss of the pencils. Sammy tried to give Hazel her pencil back, but she let him keep it, calling it his consolation prize.

They were in front of the mayor's office, and a few people were parading in the front of it holding signs about how the war in Europe was stupid, and how America shouldn't even think about joining.

A man with one leg walked up to the front. Hazel knew him, he was the butcher's dad –Mr Leblanc- a man who'd lost his leg during the Great War a few years before Hazel was born.

"Son," he said putting his hand on one boy's shoulder. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You ought to be ashamed that you're using those signs and that brain of yours to break the country's unity. You ought to be putting those things to proper uses. Uses that make our boys strong and proud and aware that there are ton of us standing behind them. That's what I'd have liked when I was out in Europe."

The protesters looked at each other. In one of his rare blasts of seriousness, Sammy put the pencil down, walked up to the soldier and shook his hand. He whispered something quick, and Hazel ran after him to say thank you too.

**2000**

Emily stood at the bus stop, behind a crowd consisted mostly of students, but a few pencil skirts and dress shoes were sticking out from underneath winter coats too.

Two business people with Blue Tooths in their ears were talking.

"The budget for the military has gotten bigger. _Again._"

"God, I'm sick of the government. Why did anyone vote them to power again? It's not as if the troops have even been doing anything productive in the Middle East."

Emily bit her lips and tilted her head back, closing her eyes and counting to ten to calm herself down.

One…

_She saw her best friend step on an anti-personnel bomb again._

Two…

_PTSD._

Three…

_Homesickness._

"This is America's war; I don't see why we're sending our people out there to get butchered."

Four… five… six…


	65. Genevieve VI

**Hi! This took a while for me to write, but I am happy with it. Please remember that this is in a different universe than First Print and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the four characters who talk during this thing.**

* * *

**Genevieve VI**

**In the style of Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase**

**For baby Cyclopes (who asked for babysitting Genevieve) and KaraokeLeo (who asked for Annabeth and Gen)**

"I don't care if it's mythological or not," Sally said putting on her second earring. "If there's a problem, you can call okay? Just call, it'll be okay, we understand. Actually, don't even talk in the phone- don't put your voice on the line. Just let it ring and hang up and I promise that I'll keep my phone on all…"

"Mom, we'll be okay." Percy said.

"I know sweetheart, I'm just saying…" Sally said nervously. "If there's a problem…"

"Your number's on the fridge, the third one from the bottom is Paul's and the second one is yours, and your cellphones will be on all night," Annabeth said from the living room, where she was nearby Genevieve who was herself plopped down on a blanket. "She has bottles in the fridge and the next door neighbour is a retired paediatric nurse so she knows how to handle babies. Don't worry Mrs. Jackson. We'll be okay."

"Annabeth is the only reason you're letting me babysit, isn't she?" Percy asked turning towards his mother.

"Annabeth's in the top ten reasons why you're allowed to do anything, sweetheart." Sally nodded.

"Yeah, but I still think that it's too hard to ask her to babysit Gen _and _Percy." Paul said to tease him. Percy made a face, and even Sally smiled, relaxing.

"Okay, well, you two have a nice evening. If you get hungry there are leftovers and Percy knows how to use the micro-wave." Sally said. She kissed him on the forehead and did the same to her daughter, who took the occasion to close her tiny fist around a strand of Sally's hair. She unwound the tiny fingers from her curl, and then they were off.

* * *

Annabeth readjusted Gen in her arms.

"She's so tiny; you'd think she was a preemie." Annabeth said smoothing Gen's hair down.

Percy shrugged. "I guess."

"You don't know the first thing about babies, do you?" Annabeth asked.

"No but I can do this," Percy said poking Gen in the side. She started giggling. There was this saying that every time a baby laughed, an angel got its wings. Well, twenty angels probably got knighted right that moment.

"Cute as that is; it isn't really an accomplishment. Poke anyone in the ribs and they'll laugh. It's because there are so many vital organs in the chest area combined with the fact that your nervous system-"

"Really?" Percy said. He poked Annabeth and she folded in two, holding Gen tightly.

"I'm holding her!" Annabeth said. Percy took Gen away.

"Problem solved," he said. "Come on Gennie, let's go set up a movie for you, how about that?"

Annabeth took Genevieve back and Percy looked through old VCR tapes of Disney movies.

"Were those yours?" Annabeth asked.

"Yup," Percy said.

"The Little Mermaid," Annabeth said reading the title.

"That was my favourite. But I fast-forwarded all the cheesy songs and romance and stuff."

"Oh come on, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said. "Those are some good songs."

"Yeah. No can do," Percy said. "I used to think that you could get cooties through TV screens."

They kept looking.

"The Lion King, of course. Mulan, excellent choice. And Hercules?" She smiled.

"I think that this was my mom's way of giving me clues that I was half god in case something happened to her," Percy shrugged. "Want to watch that, Gen? Maybe you're going to end up seeing all the messed up stuff that's out there. We could train you young. Maybe you can learn Morse code, throat singing and rolling over too."

"Mmm, no," Annabeth said. "That movie got so many things wrong: my dad forbade me from watching that as a child. She may as well get the correct information. She deserves at least that if she _did _inherit the sight."

"Fine then," Percy said.

Annabeth made a grab for The Little Mermaid and started the film.

Percy had to go change Gen's diaper before the movie. The four-month old was gripping a set of big plastic keys as the movie started. Of course she was too young to get the story, but Percy had this philosophy that if they played it since an early age, it would be embedded in his brain.

"Just remember Gen: Triton doesn't rule the seas. That is factually incorrect. We don't want that son of a gun's ego to get any bigger." Percy said.

"He's a god," Annabeth said back-slapping his elbow to shush him.

"He's my brother," Percy said.

"Still a god."

"You don't understand because your siblings are demigods," Percy said. "Talk to Jason or Thalia or Frank or Clarisse. It doesn't matter. It legitimately could not matter less. They are our siblings."

Annabeth shook her head and stopped the conversation right there. Just in time to sing _Under the Sea _loudly, waving Gen's tiny arms around.

"Are you being babysat by weirdoes, Gen?" Annabeth. asked.

"It's okay," Percy reassured his sister. "If you understood all the weird English lit puns your parents made, you'd realise that you were made by a bunch of weirdoes too."

Gen got hungry at some point, and so Percy bottle-fed her.

"I take back my previous comment. You are pretty good with kids." Annabeth said watching him hold her exactly right. Maybe it was just because Genevieve was the most laid-back and calm baby ever to walk the earth, which must be so strange to Sally since she'd previously raised Percy.

"Yeah. I think I'd like to have kids one day." Percy said. He immediately blushed. That was _not _something that you said in front of your girlfriend. Luckily Annabeth took it well.

"I think you'd be good at it," Annabeth said. "Heck, Julia's been pestering everyone who knows you asking when you'll come back to see her. She wants you _and _Jason now, see."

"Stubborn girl."

"She knows what she wants."

"Don't worry, I like you best." Percy said kissing her. Genevieve squirmed in his arms and started crying.

"Uh oh," Percy said. "Was that insensitive to say in front of my sister? I'm sorry Gennie, I swear that you're one of my favourite people too. I won't say that you're my favourite, but you're okay I guess."

"She just ate," Annabeth pointed out. "She probably has to burp."

"Oh yeah. I know how to do that too!"

"Wow. I really need to take back my previous comments," Annabeth said.

"You need to _destroy _it, Wise Girl," Percy said.

"I won't quite go there yet," Annabeth said as Percy got up to find the blanket his mom always used.

A while later they'd switched the movie even though Genevieve was asleep in Percy's arms. The sound track to Hercules and the fact that nothing onscreen was new to them had totally knocked Percy out. Besides, his body wasn't on adrenaline 24/7 anymore and was thus recovering from losing the Achilles' curse, and about twenty other things that had happened that summer. Annabeth worked the other way: she couldn't sleep.

Percy's head slumped on her shoulder. Making an executive decision, she took Genevieve out of his arms. Percy squirmed for a second and woke up a bit.

"Sleep Seaweed Brain, it's okay I've got her." Annabeth said when his eyes opened up a bit. His head fell back nearly right away.

The satyr (who Annabeth hated; why hadn't Disney just used Chiron?) was singing about how Hercules was going to be his last shot before complete retirement (technically Heracles was his last shot since Hercules and the Greek civilisation in the movie hadn't existed at the same time- seriously, this was like putting men and dinosaurs on the same planet). The ironic thing was that in one myth Hercules had accidentally shot Chiron with a poison arrow in his ankle and the pain was so intense, the gods freed Chiron from his mortal form and had put him in the stars, thus making Hercules Chiron's mythological last shot).

Annabeth looked down at Genevieve. Her hair was somewhere between curly and wavy, and also dark like Sally's. She actually looked a lot like her mother. And even in her sleep, Gen's hand was closed around one of Annabeth's curls. She was obsessed with grabbing things and apparently hair was too good to resist.

Annabeth grinned and kissed her nose.

"You really are a cutie," Annabeth said. "Even more than that, you might just be a miracle worker. You're good for Percy. He needs something to care about, some kind of a cause in his life. Even a teeny tiny one like yourself does the trick. And you're someone he can love with all of his big, dopey heart and who will always love him back. You are fantastic, cutie. And just for the record, I'm pretty much completely suckered in by you too."

* * *

Sally opened the door and didn't hear a single sound. She put her keys down and wandered into the living room, smiling right away.

Percy and Annabeth were lying down on the couch. Genevieve was curled up on Percy's chest, Annabeth was positioned in a way that made it totally impossible for Gen to roll off and fall. She was holding one of Annabeth's curls. The whole scene was bathed in the TV's blue light, sign of a finished movie.

"Oh boy," Paul said from behind her. "Babysitting really is tough."


	66. Jeopardy

**Jeopardy **

**In the style of Frederic and Annabeth Chase **

**For RyanNarwhall**

"Unofficial state nicknames for 1000," the female contestant said.

The host read off, "'Paradise of the Pacific'."

One of the guys buzzed in. "What is Hawaii."

"Correct."

"Duh," Annabeth said, eyes on her laptop. "How many states are there in the Pacific?"

"One could have assumed that he was referring to one of three states on the coast," Frederic said.

"Right, Washington, Oregon…" Annabeth said rolling her eyes.

"Good, you're on the plus side with 800," the host congratulated the player.

"Congrats on not having negative points," Frederic said flipping the page of his book. "Maybe you'll win something now."

"Classical music, 400." The guy said with a nod.

"This composer born in 1809 was the grandson of philosopher Moses Mendelssohn."

"Who is Felix Mendelssohn," the same guy buzzed in.

"Yes."

"Singers for 400 please."

"'Quit Playing Games with my Heart', 1997."

"The Backstreet Boys," Annabeth said automatically.

"Who is In-Synch?" One of the participants out.

"The Backstreet Boys," Annabeth repeated exasperated.

"No, In-Synch is not what we were looking for," the host said with far more patient than the blonde daughter of Athena watching.

"Who in the Backstreet Boys?" Another contestant said.

"Correct."

"Mine for 600," he said.

"This green-blue gemstone is sometimes acquired as a side operation at copper mines, like the Bisbee one in Arizona."

"What is lapis-lazuli?"

"They said gemstone, not semi-precious stone," Annabeth said looking at the screen incredulous. As if all the stupidity hurt.

"Besides, how is lapis blue-green? It's blue. Turquoise basically has it in the name, for crying out loud," Frederic said shaking his head.

"What is Turquoise?" Someone else tried.

"Good."

"Mine for 600."

"These birds are sensitive to methane and carbon dioxide, which explains their use in a coal-mining phrase."

"What is a chicken?"

"The chicken in the coalmine, I read that in a book just the other day," Frederic said sarcastically.

Annabeth rubbed her eyes. "Stupid people have to stop thinking with their feet. But that bit about chickens being sensitive to gases in the air is true."

"How do you know?"

"Malcolm tried it once. That's why he was sent to camp young," she explained. Frederic laughed.

"Thank God chemistry was a side-interest for you. All I had to deal with was lope-sided daredevil piles of everything all over the place," Frederic said.

"I did that?"

"Oh yeah- pans, utensils, blocks, books, movies... The worst was that you built yourself stools if I'd put things higher."

"It was really cute," Susan said from another room, chuckling at the memory.

There was a bloop-bloop sound on the TV, nearly as judgmental as the spectators were when nobody got it right.

"What is a canary," the host said. "Melissa, start us off again."

"Mining 1000."

"In 2012, this 2-word west African nation launched a website to make its diamonds and other mining operations more transparent."

"What is South Africa?"

They both groaned.

"He just said west! Why are you bringing up _South _Africa?" Frederic said. "That's common sense right there, not even a good guess.2

"What is Sierra Leone?" The leading contestant, Bradley, said.

"Thank you, person who deserves to be on Jeopardy," Annabeth said.

"Well this is going to be an interesting finale," the host said.

"No it's not, that guy in the middle is clearly in the lead. He'd have to bet a lot of money on a wrong answer to lose now." Frederic said.

"Or that girl next to him, Melissa whatever, bets at least 5 000 dollars and gets the answer right," Annabeth said.

"She won't do it, she's dumb." Frederic said. "They're all dumb."

"-When we come back for our final Jeopardy which will deal with this-" there was an elevator-like _ding _sound as the category appeared onscreen- "subject. Presidential campaigns. We'll be right back."

There were boring commercials during which Frederic sent one of his research papers in to the university via email and helped Annabeth with some holiday homework she'd lugged over from New York. The show came back on and the host blabbed on a bit before reading the question.

"Though shot in the chest, Teddy Roosevelt gave a 1912 speech saying 'it takes more than that to kill' one of these animals," the host read. "Good luck."

Susan had no idea whatsoever. She hadn't even been aware that Teddy Roosevelt had survived a shot to the chest.

"Bull moose," Frederic said automatically. When she'd married him, she hadn't thought that she'd never have to use Google again.

"Wasn't that the party he was campaigning for?" Annabeth said.

"Correct," her father said.

The first contestant had it right, the one who had 8$ He doubled his score.

The second, dumb-as-a-brick, betted 5 000$ and said 'bear'. She was gone and Frederic and Annabeth actually cheered.

The one who was in the lead had it right too.

"There we go. All is well that ends well." Annabeth said.

"You two are very judgemental when you're watching Jeopardy," Susan said from the other room. "Not everyone's built like a tiny encyclopaedia."

She shook her head smiling. Sometimes her step-daughter and husband's similarities scared her. **  
**


	67. Hippocampi

**On during school, like a badass. **

**This ended up being a bit darker than I imagined it, so I'm going to put a 'T' rating on this particular chapter. Enjoy nonetheless.**

* * *

**Hippocampi**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson and Poseidon**

**For royalfuschia **

Percy giggled and giggled as he splashed around the shallow waters. Sally had walked him around the beach and shown his exactly how deep he could go if she wasn't in there with him. Really it was just a precaution- she was fairly certain that Percy could be dropped in the middle of the Atlantic and come out of it fine. But she didn't want her seven year old making freaky discoveries in the likes of 'wow, I can breathe underwater' or whatever else he may be able to do.

"Mommy!" He cried. Sally looked up from her book. He was pointing at the horizon, where a giant shape was detaching itself from the sea. Sally shut her book and got up, shielding her eyes from the sun and squinting towards it.

It was a hippocampi, she recognised it right away. Half horse, half fish although she couldn't see the fish bit from where she stood.

"What's that?" Percy asked. "It looks like a horse!"

"Horses don't swim that deep, silly." Sally said plastering a condescending smile on her lips. "It's just a big wave."

"A tsunami?" Percy gasped. He'd read a book about those for an English project this year and was now obsessed with seeing one.

"Not in New York, honey." Sally said. "How about you come out of the water okay? It's just about time for lunch. We can make spider weenies on a campfire if you like."

Percy nodded and scrambled back up the beach, sand sticking to his feet and ankles, kicking up sand. She breathed a sigh of relief- he could be distracted so easily from the monsters (or a creature)…

One day it wouldn't be that way and Sally had no idea what she'd do then.

* * *

She looked out the small cabin's window and saw the hippocampi again. She'd been expecting that. They grew attached very easily and were too curious for their own goods.

She readjusted the blankets over a sleeping Percy and kissed his forehead. He didn't stir, he was knocked out solid after a day in the sand and waves. _Good, _Sally thought as she snuck out of their cabin.

Guided by moonlight, she approached the hippocampi. Its hooves sunk in the sand, and the fish tail splashed around when it saw her, like a puppy's tail.

"Shh," Sally sooved it. "You've got to be quiet boy. Oh, I'm happy to see you too of course."

She'd always called him Kaleid because of the colours shimmering on his tail, like a Kaleidoscope, or a rainbow. When Poseidon had explained the monsters and the existence of Mount Olympus, Sally had obviously gone into a very strict and incorrigible state of denial even though she'd managed to somewhat connect the dots. Kaleid was the hippocampi he'd summoned to prove his point to her, and since that day he'd always come back whenever she was on Montauk- which was why she usually didn't bring Percy to Montauk in the Spring, when they were most active and curious about the coast. But Gabe and Percy had been at it for weeks before March break even started, and she frankly couldn't stand him herself. She needed a break, and so they'd come.

Kaleid neighed and Sally smiled. She wandered into the water up to her ankles and held out her hand. Kaleid immediately bowed his head and she knotted her hands in his mane, scratching up and down his nose just like he liked it.

"I knew it was you," Sally said. "Hmm? I remember you, boy. I guess you remember me too. You've even gotten bigger since the last time I saw you… Your scales aren't as nice, have you been fighting with others in your pack?"

Kaleid neighed and he sounded so offended, Sally laughed.

"I missed you Kaleid, but you can't be here okay? I have a little boy who can't see you this soon. Maybe one day you can go find him, if you keep your scales nice and shimmering. Now I don't know if you were interested by Percy, or if you were interested by me, but you're going to have to wait a little while longer before poking around and checking out either of us, got that?"

"I think he was interested in you both," someone said.

She turned around and spotted Poseidon.

Of course… Kaleid was a lure. Once she was in the sea, he could talk to her freely without his brothers hearing a word.

"Poseidon," she said, surprised to see him nevertheless.

"Hello Sally," he said. "I hope you don't mind…"

"No," she said. "I… I, no, I suppose not. If you have something to say, I'm ready to hear it." Then she panicked. "Is it about Percy, though? Is something going to happen? Do Zeus and Hades..?" _That _she wasn't ready to hear.

"No, they're clueless. We're still safe for now." It comforted her how he said 'we'. It was easy to feel alone when you were raising a half-blood, but Poseidon was making his own efforts to keep Percy out of harm's reach. It was good to hear. "How is he? Well, if you don't mind me asking."

"Of course I don't mind, he's your son." Sally said. _Although maybe there are better times than in the middle of the night to ask... _"He's doing alright. A bit upset that this school didn't work out –you wipe that grin off your face even if those sharks wouldn't have hurt anyone and so it was maybe a _bit _funny- but he's feeling a lot better. He loves Montauk and just the ocean in general; it's crazy how much like you he is. His best grade this year was a science project where he had to research fish. I'm not sure if he realises it, but he barely had to look at the books to make his presentation."

Poseidon grinned.

"He's a good boy," Sally said. "He doesn't know it yet and neither do most people, but he is."

"It doesn't surprise me. His mother is a good woman." Poseidon said.

She blushed furiously, even after all these years of not having heard from him. The normality of the conversation blew her away.

"And actually, that's why I'm here."

Sally frowned.

"Your back," he said as if to explain himself. She played dumb. "Or your forehead, if you'd like to talk about that."

"What about it?" Sally asked, even if she knew exactly what about it the problem was. She couldn't help but play with her hair.

"It's bruised," Poseidon said. "That's why you're not going in the water with him."

"Or maybe I'm not going because I'm making you give me reading time as child support," she said.

Poseidon shook his head. "Sally, you've got the ring on your finger…"

She blushed.

"And your back is black and blue and your forehead is red- your hair doesn't hide it that well, by the way." Poseidon said. "I'm not as stupid as I look you know."

She was blushing furiously.

"Maybe I'm stupider than I look," Sally said. "Spell it out for me."

"He's hitting you," Poseidon said. The words chilled Sally. "I don't know who he is, I don't know what his story is, but he's hurting you Sally. That's illegal. More than that, it's not morally right or acceptable."

"I know," she said softly.

"Then please, for Percy's sake if not your own, don't let him." Poseidon said. "You're going to get very, very hurt one day Sally, and it's not going to be pretty and maybe you won't come back from it. Do you know how scary of a possibility that is? You deserve better than some jerk who…"

"Stop it," Sally said.

"Sally-"

"Stop making this about me," she said. "Stop making this about you and me."

"I wasn't…"

"Maybe not, but you'd have gotten there eventually. Rather quickly I think." Sally said. "I know that this… that what's going on isn't ideal. Trust me, after a summer with you I know what it's like to be loved. But this isn't about me anymore, it's about Percy. It's always going to be about Percy from this day until the day that he doesn't need me anymore. Let me make my decision off of that, will you?"

Poseidon's eyes were pained and he shook his head.

"Sally… please don't sentence yourself to it."

"I have my books, I have my writing. I'm not broken inside. I'll manage." She said.

"Percy…" He said in a desperate plea to have her see reason.

"Will never know," she finished.

Poseidon shook his head more.

"He's going to grow up and realise that he doesn't live in a perfect world one day. He'll start noticing things."

"By that time I'll be very good at hiding," Sally said. "As long as you stay out of it completely."

"You can't ask that of me."

"You bet I can, and you bet I will." Sally said. "Don't you dare intervene with my plans. You're not even supposed to be here. You'll attract more sea monsters, as if Kaleid wasn't enough."

"He'll take you up on that offer to go find Percy as soon as he's claimed, you know," Poseidon said to change the conversation.

"Maybe." Sally said.

It was quiet for a second.

"At least let me heal you," the god finally said.

Sally swallowed, nodded and turned around. Poseidon brushed her hair off her back and held it there. He had to work hard to keep his breath even once he saw the bruises.

"You are impossible," he said putting a hand on her back. A warm, gentle feeling rushed across Sally's body. Much nicer than whatever it was that she'd gotten used to.

"Maybe," Sally admitted.

"You ask the impossible of me."

"Definitely," Sally said. "But you're a god. You're supposed to do the impossible."

He shook his head. "It's hard to see you _let _this happen to yourself."

"One day I'll get rid of him," Sally said. "The other man."

"I'm waiting anxiously for that day to come." Poseidon said.


	68. Barbie

**My day isn't looking up to being very good, so let's just post this and see if reviews after school have cheer-me-up potential.**

**Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.**

* * *

**Barbie**

**In the style of Piper and Tristan McLean**

**_For baby Cyclopes: _"Piper growing up"**

If he were asked to count on his hand the number of times Piper had gotten Barbies for her birthday, he'd have to grow a few extra limbs. He told everyone who asked him what to get her _not Barbie dolls, whatever else is fine. _But people always got her Barbie dolls anyways. She'd be happy with a baseball, to be honest. She wasn't high-maintenance. But people walking into stores, saw something pink and went _oh I have to buy something for a little girl so this works. _

Oh well. It was the thought that mattered, as he explained to her.

* * *

He stepped on something sharp and nearly swore. It didn't hurt enough for it to be a Lego: had Piper dragged in rocks for some reason?

He looked down. Nope. It was a Barbie head.

* * *

Piper said that she'd lost her library book, but Tristan was determined to find it. That was how he'd came to be lying on her bedroom floor, searching under her bed.

That was how he'd found her shoebox filled with Barbie doll parts. She'd appeared to rip a few of them apart to create this giant mix of legs, arms, necks, torsos, heads… he even found a ponytail.

_Why is my daughter selling Barbie organs on the black market? _Was his first thought.

* * *

Tristan opened the microwave to reheat leftovers for supper and found a Barbie whose cheesy, ever smiling face was melted.

This was getting worrying.

* * *

Piper appeared to have decorated the Christmas tree with Barbie doll clothes in addition to regular Christmas ornaments. He didn't comment until New Year's when they put the tree down.

She simply replied that he could put them in the box since she wouldn't be needing them.

* * *

He picked up her toys throughout the living room as they left Dad's place. Piper was curled up in the car, asleep after a day of running around and playing with the neighborhood kids and the dog.

Tristan flipped a toy jeep and his blood froze when he saw a naked Barbie tapped to it, neck twisted.

"I was going to talk to you about that," Dad said. "Is Pipes..?"

"Yeah, she's okay. Just... creative, that's all." _I think._

* * *

He walked into Piper's room to find a doll that had _Mrs. Smith _scrawled across her chest and sewing needles sticking out of her body. Two others were named _Lindsay _and _Maria. _

He decided to leave it there and ask how school had gone at supper.

* * *

He walked into the bathroom and saw a Barbie floating in the sink.

"Hey, Pipes," he called. She wandered into the doorframe within seconds. He motioned for her to come forwards and pulled the little bench she stepped on to reach the sink in place. She climbed up.

"Why is there a Barbie in the sink?"

"I drowned her," Piper said.

Tristan paused for a few seconds.

"Why?"

"I drown my enemies." Piper said.

"Okay," Tristan said. "Do we drown people who are not Barbie dolls?"

"No, theoretically." Piper said. Piper killed him sometimes. Where in the world had she learned the word 'theoretically'?

"So we drown them in practise?"

"Guess not."

"Okay, carry on." Tristan said. As long as it was healthy, right?


	69. Board Games

**For some reason I've been getting a million requests for a piece about Bellona and Reyna and Hylla's father. So here is a bit of it. An actual oneshot has recently been inspired, and will be written eventually. Actually, now that I've started, I'm getting into this. But until further and grander results, here is a drabble about them.**

* * *

**Board Games**

**In the style of Bellona and Juan Guerrero **

**_For Guest_**

"A3?" He tried, wincing as soon as he said it. A3- what a stupid guess.

She shook her head and so he put down a little white peg on his board.

"E5?" She asked in turn.

"Hit," he groaned. She smiled and put a red peg down on her board. "I daresay you have an unfair advantage in this game."

"As if," she said. "I don't look over maritime warfare. That's an entirely different god."

"Still," he insisted.

"It's not my fault you're bad at this game," she said. She brought her attention back on her board and so he knew that the conversation was over.

"F17?" He tried.

"Miss," she said. He didn't even put a white peg. It was so clear that he wasn't going to win this round- he didn't even want to try.

"E6," she said.

"Hit," he groaned.

Two turns later, she'd sunken his aircraft carrier and held it in the palm of her hands with all of his other pieces, except his stupid little patrol boat who'd only take two hits to sink and may as well be dead already. There was a smile on her face- which brightened it up considerably.

Even when the context was a game and all she'd done was 'guess' (though he'd forever deny the possibility that she maybe wasn't cheating) where a piece of plastic was stationed on the grid, any small victory made her happy. The thought made him smile. This regal goddess who'd nearly sliced him open on their first encounter in Lebanon could smile over plastic pieces on a plastic board. This regal goddess who shot him deadly looks whenever he called her by a nickname could still milk her bragging rights after she won a game. This regal goddess was so constant- always persistent in effort and pleased with victory.

"Your turn sweetheart," she said with a smile, as if she knew exactly how the game would end.

This regal goddess was his for the moment.


	70. Chess

**Chess**

**In the style of Annabeth Chase, Malcolm Marlowe and Athena**

**_For Je_**

It was an elegant pavilion of Annabeth's design in one of Olympus' bigger parks. The style reminded Athena of the civil war era- all of the pavilions circling around the park's central forest were in a historically chronological order: it started with a wooden structure with wooden benches, and finished with a fancy Plexiglas-furnished solarium that might be installed in a backyard.

The board had been set an hour ago, and surprisingly Annabeth and Malcolm were still holding on. There were still white pieces populating the board. They were scarce and very limited in value, naturally- but they were there.

The memory of how the tradition had started was somewhat hazy –it had to be specially called back from the depths of her mind instead of just accessed like a name or an address.

Annabeth had been touring the park with Hephaestus to point out some slight repairs that had to be made since a mishap at the latest solstice. Once the crafty god had retired to his forges, Annabeth had come to salute her mother- as she usually did, hair tucked in a ponytail, necklace resting on her chest, binder held to her stomach. Athena had been studying a board, and Annabeth had asked who she was playing against.

"Nobody," Athena had said. "I'm trying to find a way to break free of this check mate, I'm sure there's a solution."

"Your pieces look a lot like the ones in the cabin," Annabeth said examining the wings on the knight and the Grecian spirals on the rook.

"You play chess?" Athena asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Annabeth said.

"Come," Athena said waving her hand and resetting the board.

Of course Annabeth had been crushed, but her mind had started to work and try to solve the problem.

"What if next time I come over to check on repairs I bring Malcolm?" Annabeth asked. "Maybe at two we could beat you."

"Maybe," Athena said- which was just a kind word. The statistical probability of them beating her was practically non-existent.

And so while Annabeth toured the grounds with Hephaestus, Malcolm had followed wide-eyed and amazed at everything, mouthing calculations and historical influences and this and that as he absorbed his sister's work. That was the first game of chess that Athena had played with those two particular children, and she had to admit that they were getting better. They communicated by scribbling on a pad of paper hidden under the pavilion's table, tapping each other on the shoulder if a stupid suggestion was made and shushing each other when one spoke up- all for the sake of secrecy and strategy. She had to admit that they made her smile. Another thing she was less proud of admitting was that she'd already given them grace to prolong games that she could have ended after several moves alone- which was completely against her usual philosophies.

Malcolm took the pen from Annabeth, scribbled something down, and clicked it shut. Annabeth nodded and moved a bishop so that it was in a direct line with two of Athena's pieces- the Queen and the Rook.

"A skewer," she said softly recognising the move. "Well done Malcolm."

Of course the usual move was to save the Queen- which couldn't be done by capturing the threatening bishop since he was protected by a pawn. She had to make a sacrifice and move the Queen one. She expected her children to capture the rook and then make a zigzag to escort the nearby pawn to the opposite end of the board for it to be promoted to a Queen. Or possibly they'd use the bishop as a decoy to advance a different pawn to the board.

She put the Queen down. That was when something new occurred to her, just as Malcolm swapped the king and the rook on the board.

"I was under the impression that you both despised castling." Athena said with a smile on her lips.

"Dad suggested it to me," Malcolm said. "He said that you played like a supercomputer, taking in data and focusing on that data alone when you played an easy opponent."

Annabeth nodded. "Mine said to throw you a curve ball."

"I suppose that that is a habit of mine," Athena said. There wasn't much she could do. Her Queen was caught in another skewer- this time between the newly moved rook and the Queen. She couldn't move her Queen because it was an illegal move to leave the King unprotected. However once the rook had captured the Queen she could dispose of the piece with the other rook. However that required a sacrifice- one that her children shouldn't be ready to make either.

But she understood their logic. All that arguing on the paper pad earlier had probably been just about that. Since their chances of capturing her king were more than paper-thin, they'd resorted to settling for her Queen. She herself found great difficulty in settling for a victory, so the possibility had escaped her.

She smiled as she moved a seemingly random, and as quickly as she could, Annabeth captured the Queen.

"We did it!" Malcolm said.

He and Annabeth exchanged high-fives and Athena smiled.

"You can keep the piece," she said. It would be like a trophy back at camp.

"Thank you," Malcolm said more calmly now.

Athena moved the bishop again and cornered the white king.

"Check mate," she said. "And you are both very welcome."

Malcolm looked over at Annabeth, shrugged, and cradled the Queen in his hand. He shrugged.

"Agreed," Annabeth nodded.


	71. Verne

**Verne**

**In the style of Poseidon and Sally Jackson**

**_For WatermelonPushPopsAreCool_**

Poseidon twisted his head at an awkward angle so that he could see the cover of the book she was reading.

"Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea," Poseidon said. He grinned. "A bit of an ironic book to be reading seaside."

"I hadn't even noticed," Sally said her eyes still on the page. "It's just that I reread Journey to the Center of the Earth not very long ago, my copy of The Mysterious Island is on loan, and I don't like to leave New York without at least _one _Jules Verne."

Poseidon shook his head, smile on his lips. All the life rules Sally had seemed to revolve around books.

She looked up at long last, having finished her chapter.

"You know," she said, "You'd probably like this book. The science-fiction is something that'll be new to you as opposed to most things, it's full of adventure, mystery, danger- and I'm sure there's enough ocean for you to approve."

"Judging by the name I'd agree. But I don't read."

"Oh come on. Why not?"

"I just don't."

"You have to try. Please? Oh, come on, you just have to."

"Why?"

"For me?" Sally offered.

"That's convincing enough. But you know that I'm just not good with English when it comes to reading or writing. They changed the stupid alphabet too much."

"Well, you have my permission to zap my copy into Ancient Greek," Sally said shutting her book. "And I am _so _going to quiz you on this book to make sure you've read it."

"Don't you trust me?" Poseidon asked.

"Not about this," Sally said. "Oh- and no tapping into some cosmic library of information just to download the plot into your head. Read it. Like, look at the book and register the words and turn the pages."

_Damn it where's the loophole? _Poseidon started to panic.

Sally smiled sweetly and handed him the book.


	72. Genevieve VII

**Posting in class like the bored badass I am. Let's see if I can beat the final bell! This is also the last Genevieve fic, although she might have camoes by the way.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the associated characters.**

* * *

**Genevieve VII**

**In the style of Percy Jackson **

Percy hated to admit it. He really, really did. But goddamn was Gen's night light comforting.

He felt seven years old again, curled up next to her crib in his sweats and an old Camp Half-Blood shirt who's stains were too weird to wear. Like a little kid who'd had a nightmare and saw the big bad wolf in his bedroom's shadows, thought that the floor's creaking was the Bogey Man coming at him with a sack. It felt so _childish… _but he couldn't help it.

He turned his head and pressed it against the wall. Gen was sleeping on her side, her wispy dark hair curling a bit. Her lips were parted and for a while he just listened to her breathing.

"Oh my gods Genevieve," he sighed. He slipped his hand between the bars of her crib and held her tiny hand between his fingers. "You're lucky that you get to just lie there and sleep like that. You're lucky that you've barely seen anything. Trust me, the more you see the less nice it all becomes."

His thumb was brushing the back of her teeny tiny hand.

"No," he said shaking his head. "You're lucky because for you it'll be different. You won't see half as much as what I've seen, I'm so happy for you. There aren't enough bad things left in the world for that to happen. I mean, it's getting better… And even now when it's still pretty bad, the world's a good place right?"

She breathed in and out. She was right there. Maybe just the fact that this world was one where a baby could sleep in a crib with its parents in the next room made this world a good one.

"Doesn't matter," he said. "I'm going to make sure it is. I'm going to make sure it's all good for you, Gen."

She stirred in her sleep and her other hand ended up on top of Percy's fingers.

He kissed her hand.

"I don't have much experience, but I think that that's what big brothers do."


	73. Memorial

**I'm sorry that I've been a lazy poster recently. Really, really sorry. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters shown below**

* * *

**Memorial**

**In the style of Frank and Emily Zhang**

Frank made his way downtown Ottawa, passing by street artists in the Byward market, duos of moms with strollers, tour groups, locals going to work or heading to bistros. It was chilly, but November hadn't gotten cold enough to keep everyone inside yet. Crazy people in Ontario must be used to this insane cold- Vancouver, being seaside, was much milder, with winters much less humid and hypothermia-inducing.

He eventually got to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. A soldier's body had been charred beyond belief recognition during WWII. Canada had taken the abandoned body back on its home soil and give it a monument, that remembered all the soldiers who were dead- Canadian or not. Maybe that Unknown Soldier was German, American, British, or by a streak of luck Canadian. Nobody knew.

Frank didn't stick around long, he kept making his way forwards.

He came to the second monument, much newer than anything else downtown.

It was a big cube supported by stone legs. On top, bronze cut outs were the shapes of several countries in the Middle East where Canada had sent its troops- Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan…

Frank climbed the stone steps around it, breaking out of the group of tourists and looked through the cube's side dedicated to Afghanistan.

_Captain Emily Zhang, 4/3/2010_

He looked at the name for a long time before taking out a pen and paper and making a rubbing of it. He brought the paper down and starred at the little imprint some more. On paper, on the monument, in his mind...

_Miss you, Mom. I don't think you'd care much for your name to be on some slab of stone and metal, but it's there okay? Nobody's forgotten you. Especially not me._


	74. News

**Ah yes. Fanfiction on the day before a biology test. Wise indeed.**

* * *

**News**

**In the style of Sally and Percy Jackson**

**_For Sallyjacksoning_**

"Sally, you look pale as a sheet," Miranda said. "Just come out and say it."

"I'm pregnant," she said looking like she was about to be sick.

Miranda's shoulders dropped and a part of her mind gave away. "Really?! You're..?"

Sally nodded, her eyes filled with tears. She wiped her eyes with her palm.

"Oh, sweetie, come here," Miranda said wrapping her in a hug.

* * *

"You're eight months pregnant," Miranda said.

"Don't I know it," Sally said as they walked up to their apartment. She was excessively slow and Miranda could only hope that the elevator would get fixed soon.

"You shouldn't be working anymore," Miranda said. "Especially not as a waitress- you're on your feet all day, you poor thing."

"Oh, I'm fine," Sally said. "Why are you worrying about me, Andy?"

"Because I'm your friend and if I won't worry for you, nobody will," Miranda replied.

Sally laughed it off and dug her key out of her purse. "You know that I'll always be okay."

* * *

_Twelve years later_

She sat in traffic. Good Lord did she hate having to take the car to go to work when she had a meeting at an awkward time.

To pass the time she turned on the radio and sipped at her chai latte.

"Police are looking for a woman and her son after they vanished while vacationing at Montauk beach. Sally Jackson and her twelve year old son Percy Jackson have gone missing late last night."

Miranda choked on her latte, dropped it on the passenger's seat and turned up the volume.

"The vehicle they were using was found in ruins around Long Island last night after local farmers reported seeing a fireball. The whereabouts of mother and son remain unknown."

* * *

Gretchen and Kendra were running after each other in the apartment, causing havoc and an extremely high noise production. What were summer days for if they had to be spent inside? The weather was just so, so stupid. And to top it off, Miranda had no patience with the world at the moment- not even with her daughters. She was still waiting for a phone call that she may never get seeing that the next of kin who'd be informed of any news was Gabe, and Gabe was too busy playing poker and playing up the pity factor to try and figure out where his wife was and how she was doing.

_Idiot doesn't even deserve to know Sally's name, _Miranda thought bitterly, taking her anger out on the vegetables she was cutting.

Gretchen squealed one time too many, and Miranda lost her cool.

"Okay you two," she said lifting her three year old up. Gretchen squealed and Miranda grabbed onto Kendra's hand and dragged them to the living room. "Movie time. I'll make popcorn if you two sit here nice."

Done deal.

Miranda turned the TV on to set up the movie they'd picked. It was on the news channel.

"A mysterious disappearance case seems to have a happily ever after, after all. Police have located Sally Jackson who has been missing since early June and caught up with the twelve year old fugitive Percy Jackson-"

Miranda shoved her two girls to make room on the couch.

"-and the two other tweens he was traveling with around on the East coast. It appears that what authorities originally thought was a wild escape was actually an abduction...

"Abduc..?" Miranda realised that she was screaming and she stopped herself.

"Mommy what's an abduction?" Gretchen asked.

"I think it's a way people have babies." Kendra said authoritatively.

"I'll tell you later," Miranda promised, flipping over to the DVD player to get the girls hooked. She grabbed the phone and burrowed into the kitchen, punching in one of the only numbers that she knew by heart.

"What do you want?" Gabe's sloppy voice answered. He was probably pissed that Percy wasn't going to jail and that he had to give back the insurance money he got from Sally's 'death'.

"Not you," Miranda said. "Pass the phone to the woman who lets herself get called your wife, will you?"

"You-"

Someone must've grabbed the phone from Gabe.

"Hello?" Sally asked.

"Sally!" Miranda said. "Are you okay? I was watching the news and-"

"Oh, honey," she sighed. "Of course I'm fine. Why are you worrying about me?"

The pressure was suddenly lifted off of her shoulders.

* * *

"Make yourself useful," Miranda called out to Percy. "Help me bring in the you-know-what."

"Ah yes," Percy said eclipsing himself from where he'd been hanging out with his new Blofis cousins. He followed Miranda to her car. The you-know-what was a trip to Great-Britain that had been paid for by just about everyone at the wedding. To present it, they had framed a map of them, with a red dotted line tracing through England, Scotland and Ireland where some of the stops included London and Stratford (the birth and work places of Shakespeare), Dublin, Leap Castle, Doolin and Edinburgh.

Luckily for them, Sally's newly acquired difficult in-laws were keen on paying more than anybody else, so they got a stash of extra money by feeding them multi-digit numbers, ergo creating a bigger budget and more places to go. They'd figured that for two English lit nuts, one of which had a (deceased) Irish mother, it was a good idea. Besides, it wasn't like they needed an extra food processor or anything.

"Are you sure that you've got a place to stay while they're out in Europe, kid?" Miranda asked him. "I can take you in, you know."

"No, I'm good. I've got a place to crash, they've already said yes." Percy said.

"Sounds good. Grab your end," Miranda said. They lifted the framed map out of the car and carried it inside, Miranda wobbly on her heels, Percy poking jokes about that.

When they walked in, the music had changed to a slow dance. It was very cute and romantic and all of the couples looked very serene, except for Sally and Paul. They were trying to dance, but Sally was killing herself laughing and Paul had a little smirk that made it obvious that he was the source of it all.

She really was beautiful. Her smile had never been brighter, her dress was absolutely perfect, she was beaming and in the arms of someone who finally loved her...

"I don't know why I ever worried about you," Miranda said softly.


	75. Stay

**I finished my exams yesterday yet I'm at school to be with friends and distribute cookies to the population. While they're writing gym|science|computer science exams, I write fanfiction. Seems legit.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters used below.**

* * *

**Stay**

**In the style of Tristan and Tom McLean and Aphrodite**

**_For WatermelonPushPopsAreCool_**

Tristan pushed his toes against the floor. He was jittery, expecting news from Piper about a hard exam, and stuck in an interview about the new movie. He was trying not to show it though.

"So you've come a long way to get..." The interviewer struggled for words.

"Here," Tristan supplied.

"Right, right- just in Hollywood, with all the security and the opportunities. Who do you think had the biggest part in getting you there?"

Tristan sat up straight again and thought.

"Geez, I don't know... That's a good question..." Tristan said. "My drama teacher in high school is the one who kind of mentioned to me that acting was an actual job that people could have- so I guess that that was pretty crucial..."

The interviewer laughed and Tristan cracked a smile as he thought.

"My dad..."

* * *

"You've been twisting your hands all night," Dad said. He looked up from the sink. Dad's eyebrow was frowned and he wasn't happy. "What's going on, Tristan? Are you okay?"

"I'm doing okay," he said.

"Is Piper okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Then why in the world are you such a nervous wreck?" Tom said crossing his arms.

Tristan twisted his hands. "You know the play?"

"Yes. You play Hamlet every day but Thursday," he said.

Tristan nodded, his eyes concerned and absent. "Well, someone pretty important was in the audience last night. Someone from the industry."

"Okay," Tom said not sure where this was going.

"His name was Stan Farrow," Tristan said.

"I've seen him in movie credits," Tom nodded.

"Yeah, as the casting director," Tristan nodded, putting the dish towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms. "He's a casting director for some pretty big movies."

"Did he offer you a job?" Tom asked, sprawl-eyed.

Tristan nodded. "Yes."

"Tristan, that's great!" Tom beamed. He knew his son would make it one day. It just took a while. All good things came with waiting after all. But his mood sunk when he realised how unexcited Tristan was. "You don't seem to think so."

"The job's a movie, it's a gender-bent Romeo and Juliet. A kind of indie film that's trying to show the importance of gender role in literature," Tristan said.

"That seems right up your alley."

"Oh, it is," Tristan said. "But the alley's in LA."

"Los Angeles? You'd have to move to California."

"Yeah, that's my problem." Tristan said.

"Well that's okay," he said. "Piper's not in elementary school yet, she won't miss much. She'll be excited. Wait until I tell her that her daddy's on a screen Tristan, just you wait."

"The problem is that I don't want to move," he said.

Tom frowned. He was used to hearing some pretty strange things from his son's mouth. Art school, complaining about various pieces of costume that he _couldn't _imagine his son in, about people at work, nasty customers when he used to work in retail, about bullies at school… "Why?"

Tristan looked miserable.

"I don't want to leave Oklahoma City."

Tom felt like knocking Tristan's head off when he understood.

"Tristan. Tristan, don't you dare."

Tristan knotted a hand in his hair.

"No, I'm serious Tristan. Don't, please. Please in the name of all things good."

Tristan didn't say a word.

"She is gone, Tristan."

He didn't stir, and Tom's blood boiled. How could he think of her at a time like this, when he stood in the doorframe leading to his dream? His fate considering what Tom believed in.

_Her _was full of poison in this household. _Her _was the charming woman that Tristan had met in the theater business. _Her _was the laughing, smiling woman that he'd brought home for the Independance Day BBQ once. _Her _was the kind woman who'd asked Tom if she could give him a hand with the dishes. _Her _was the sweetheart who got Tristan his antique Shakespearean anthology. _Her _was the gentle woman who'd helped him figure out how to hold his granddaughter right. _Her _was the woman who was now none of those things since she'd up-and-left a week after the baby had been at home. _Her _was the girl that Tristan had called Tom about, breathless and panicking and heartbroken.

His son stayed placid, but Tom kept pushing him.

"She has been gone for four years. In four years she hasn't made a half-assed attempt to contact you, me, Piper, or anybody else. Don't you dare make this about _her_."

"No, you don't understand. Everything is about her now. Absolutely everything." Tristan said smacking the table with his palm. "Piper is about her- I look at her and they look so alike, she's _her _daughter too. I wake up in the morning and make coffee the same way she used to make it even if I used to drink it black. I look at people in the street, in an audience, in a store and I can't help but think that nobody shines as bright as she did." Tristan said. "I've tried to forget her, that's the healthy thing. I've tried to be mad that she just up and left one day. I've tried to do that whole closure thing, but it just doesn't happen. It doesn't, it won't and on some days I think that it can't."

"You can't arrange your life around the idea that maybe one day, out of the blue, she'll be back with a smile plastered on her face," Tom said desperately trying to knock some sense into his son. "You shouldn't even consider tolerating it if she does that."

"I'm not-"

"You are considering not taking on a project that you are very interested in because you'd have to change your address and contact information," Tom snapped. "I think that you are, and I think that you need to quit it. Quit it. Make yourself move. Maybe that's how the closure will come."

"It's not closure as long as I know that she might still be out there."

"Then put some closure on the idea that she'll come back for you," Tom said. "If you leave that door open your whole life, the only thing that'll come in are the bugs."

Tristan dipped his head back. "I don't… I don't want to."

"I know," Tom said. "Believe me. I know. But you have to make yourself do it. Do it all at once, it'll help."

"It won't."

"Well do you know what will _definitely _not help not only you, but also your daughter?" Tom asked. "Letting the opportunity of a lifetime slip away."

Bringing in Piper and using her for leverage may have been a low move, but Tom knew it was effective.

* * *

"I think it'd have to be my dad," Tristan finally said. "Definitely my dad."


	76. Visitors

**I'm heading out to Lake Placid with the guides, so don't expect any updates for the week! I leave you with this. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters used below.**

* * *

**Visitors**

**In the style of Emily Zhang**

Emily kept her ear on the door for a good while before she decided to finally turn the key and walk into the house.

Her mother was in the living room with five people- two grown men, a girl about eighteen, a boy, and another lying on the couch where his friends were helping him sip something from one of mother's big round bowls. The younger kids, all young adults, wore purple. The five of them turned to stare daggers at her the second the door creaked, and Emily made sure to remember each of the faces.

"Emily we have guests," her mother said strictly. "Go to your room and finish your homework. Change into something more decent than that uniform. I may make you do drills."

"Guests?" Emily asked stretching her neck.

"Of course. When things go bad in the south, they come up north. You know that. And I have given you orders, have I not?"

Emily tried to absorb as much of the strangers as possible before her mother got impatient and dragged her upstairs by the scruff of her neck.

"Yes mother," Emily said eclipsing herself.

* * *

Mother gave Emily five seconds to raid the kitchen to find something to eat, and told her to forget her drills. When she complained about boredom, Mother dropped a copy of _The Art of War _on her bed or told her to review family trees before shutting the door promptly.

But eventually Emily got thirsty and so she wandered downstairs while she was out of it, wearing sweatpants and a tank top and wrapped in a shawl because December was chillier than she was used to.

She wasn't expecting to run into anyone. Much less one of the adults.

She starred at him for a long time. He didn't blink. Sky blue eyes. Black hair. Beard. Structured face. Serious features. Air of royalty.

"You're Jupiter, god of all gods aren't you?" Emily asked. She wanted to bash her head against the wall right after. If you were going to rudely interrogate the King of the Gods, she could at least say _hello _beforehand.

"And you are very clever," he said with a nod.

"I'm not clever," Emily said. "Not really. Dumb as my feet according to my teachers."

"Have you been tested for ADHD? Dyslexia perhaps?"

"No."

"That may be why. It'll come perhaps. In the meantime I'm allowed to think you're clever."

"Do I have to bow?" Emily asked trying not to screw up some more. If Mom ever found out, Emily was dead meat.

"Not in your own house," Jupiter said shaking his head. Emily nodded. She didn't know what to say.

"Who was the other god with you?"

"Bacchus."

"Why was he there?" Emily asked.

Jupiter smiled. "Your mother clearly doesn't want you to know. I'd be repaying her poorly if I told you anything."

"Since when do you have to repay anybody?" Emily asked.

"Since when do I have to answer a legacy of Neptune?" He replied.

"Give me a few minutes to figure it out- I'm clever."

Jupiter laughed. "I like you. You're brave to approach a god and very natural. Also clever."

"Is the boy going to be okay?"

"Very decent as well, clearly observant. All excellent traits- you would have been a fantastic addition to the legion if circumstances were different." Jupiter said. _Yeah if your people hadn't flipped the hell out on my family centuries ago,_ Emily thought. "You're old enough, yes?"

"Thirteen."

"That's plenty. As for the boy... he'll be fine. He made a stupid mistake, went where he wasn't supposed to go, and got in some trouble. The gods had to intervene, but we've also decided to save him. We'll see if we succeed. One way or another, he'll never be able to go back to legion."

"He did something to Bacchus, didn't he?" Emily asked.

"Not to Bacchus directly."

"To his territory? Wars always get caused over territory."

"We've already discussed that your mother wouldn't like me sharing information with you, have we not?" Jupiter asked.

"Yes sir."

"Then I think that the next step is simple." Jupiter said. "Sweet dreams, Emily Zhang."

She didn't feel like it, but she went back to bed.


	77. Heights

**I always thought that Jason and Thalia had an unwittingly funny contrast so I wrote it here. Ta-dah! Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters shown below.**

* * *

**Heights**

**In the style of Jason and Thalia Grace**

**_For Je_**

"I'm home," Thalia said dropping her schoolbag by the door. Nobody ran out to meet her clutching a toy and bearing a smile. There was only mom napping on the couch with a cold compress on her forehead. That was both disappointing and alarming. She called out, "Where's Jason?"

Mom's head rolled towards her. It was actually impressive that she'd managed to put the wine bottle away before crashing. Or had it been gin this time? Thalia would check later.

"Outside," she said.

"By himself?" Thalia panicked.

"It's gated."

The area that the building had to call their 'backyard' was a concrete floor with two trees. What a two year old boy would do there for an afternoon, Thalia didn't know. That's why she went out pretty worried- not to mention the fact that she couldn't get a visual on any child out there.

"Jason, I'm home," she said.

"Hi Lia!" She couldn't for the life of her figure out where he was… Until she looked up at the trees and saw Jason sitting on a branch.

"Oh gods, Jason!" Thalia gasped. "How did you get up there?"

"Up, up, up," Jason shrugged. That made no sense.

"Jason, don't jitter. You have to get down."

"How?" Jason asked.

"I can come get you if you promise not to move and come to me."

"Yuck," Jason said. And with that he just hopped off.

Thalia screamed her head off but Jason didn't fall, so to speak. He kind of just bounced down, as if something was catching him. He landed right on his butt, but completely unhurt. He giggled but Thalia still rushed to his side and checked every single square inch of him for a bruise, a cut, a bump, a scratch... He was fine. Absolutely _fine. _

"Jason- what in the world..? No sweetheart, don't do that, alright? Don't climb trees or… or do that. Don't… don't go up in height alright?"

"Why?" Her brother asked innocently.

"Because it might scare Mommy," Thalia lied.

_No Jason. Because it completely terrifies me. _


	78. Stealth

**Stealth**

**In the style of Esperanza Valdez and Hephaestus**

**_For Goth-Gyrl-13_**

She heard the bedroom door creek open.

"Stealth isn't your skill," she moaned. At least the door wasn't opened wide enough so that light came in and burned her eyes out of her skull.

"Sorry," he said.

"Make it up to me. Get over here." Anza groaned.

She felt the bed sink a bit as he crawled in next to her. She wiggled back against his chest and put his hand on his arm when he kissed her temples.

"'Night," he said.

"Mmm- I'm awake now," she said. "How are you? How was your meeting?"

"Fine," Hephaestus replied.

"Just fine?"

"What, were you expecting it to go _well?"_

"Of course not, that is insanity," Anza said. "Did you play nice?"

"The important question is _did you play nice? _How did _your _meeting go?"

"I didn't kill anyone."

"Well that's good."

"Nobody tried to kill me."

"That's even better."

"It was close though. The bullshit I take at work…" She trailed off.

"You don't have to," Hephaestus said.

"Actually, I do. I protest- I look unwilling. I tell them it's too much- I look weak. I tell them to go fuck themselves- I am wishing something awesome on some very bad people. Also looking like a bitch."

Hephaestus laughed. He had a strange yet fascinating laugh- it started off glitchy, nearly like a rundown car or rusty machinery, but it got smooth and full and no matter what it made her smile. "Still doesn't mean you have to work for complete idiots."

"Right, all the other places are hiring Latino women right now," Anza said. "Forgot about them. Although, and this isn't confirmed I've just heard that Boeing was considering building an office in Houston."

"That's great," he said.

"Aerospace engineering," she said. "That's what seven year old me _wanted _out of life."

"You should apply if they do come."

"You think?"

"I think you'll be bashing your head against a wall for eternity if you don't," he said.

"I suppose," Anza said. "Did you hear about the experiment at NASA? How wrong it went? I couldn't believe it."

"I heard," Hephaestus said.

Anza spun to her back, lied on her chest or side, sat up and propped herself against piles of pillows as they talked, kicked off the blankets, sat on his lap, curled up in a ball…

It ended up really not mattering if he'd woken her up because they just talked and talked for the rest of the night about this and that and something or other and maybe even a thing on the side.

Light was trying to break in through her curtains by the time one of them noticed though.

"I guess you can add time-conscience under the list of things you're not good at," Anza said. "Right under stealth."


	79. Night Lights II

**Hi guys! I'm going off on vacation for two weeks. This makes things interesting for two reasons.**

**1) My cousins and I will all be in the same city**

**2) My computer access isn't guaranteed and actually not looking very good. Sooo... The plan is that for this story and To Build a Life I'll have some pre-reviewed chapters in stock so that I can possibly post them from my phone. If that doesn't work... well, you guys wait two weeks for your next update which I think (and hope) will kill nobody. **

**Anyways, enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters portrayed below.**

* * *

**Nightlight II**

_babyCyclops_

The screaming scared the life out of him for a few seconds before he remembered the summer's events. Then he just ran to Annabeth's room so that she wouldn't wake up alone _and _in the dark.

She was crying as she clutched his shirt and Frederic couldn't seem to calm her down. He and Jade had been out at the university for the night and Frederic hadn't thought that she'd go to bed before they came back. But she had, and the boys had been in bed by 9:30 as per usual.

"I left it on," she said. "I left it on, I swear, I don't know, I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay," Frederic said. "It's okay Annabeth; it's not a problem…"

"That I wake up in the middle of the night screaming?" Annabeth asked. "That I completely flip out if it's dark when I do, like I'm six years old?"

"Annabeth, you and I both know that that's not your fault. Or at least I do, and I hope that you realise it soon," he said running his fingers through her hair. Eventually he got her to settle down, promising that the light in the hall would be open like it was always _supposed _to be.

He was so mad walking out of her room; he didn't even think that it was two in the morning. He just walked into Bobby's room and flipped the switch. The light woke up his youngest son.

"Dad..?" Bobby asked.

"You closed the hallway light," he said. "You asked me yesterday if you could and I told you no. Why did you do it anyways tonight?"

"I can't sleep with it on," Bobby complained.

"To which I told you to close your door when you sleep, did I not?" Frederic asked. Bobby was quiet. "Robert Chase. Did I or did I not?"

"You did," Bobby said.

"So why didn't you?"

"I don't like having my door closed."

"Your sister needs that light opened," Frederic said. "It's not even a question of preference or 'liking' it, she _needs _it. That was a very selfish thing to do, young man."

"It's not my fault that she's scared of the dark!" Bobby said. "Why are you yelling at me it's two in the morning?"

That was the final straw.

"Your sister is _not _scared of the dark!" Frederic said trying to keep his patience. Partially because some part of him knew that Bobby didn't know as much as he did about the demigod world and was still too young to be politically correct all the time, and partially as to not wake up the entire family. "She has had a summer more difficult than you could ever imagine, she nearly lost her life more times than I can count on one hand and she is having nightmares and flashbacks right now. It's so bad, she had to stay in California for a couple of weeks to try and compose herself."

Bobby blinked.

"You told me that you understood what PTSD was," Frederic said. "Nothing is worse than pretending to know about something and bypassing a chance to get educated."

"I'm sorry," Bobby said.

"You will apologise to your sister tomorrow morning," Frederic said. "And there will be a consequence. As for what it will be, I'll sleep on it."

He walked out of room after closing the light and doors.

* * *

Frederic sat up groggily, being the light sleeper that he was. Someone inside the room froze. It wasn't Jade; she was away on business… But Bobby and Matthew had heavier steps and weren't quite as tall...

"Annabeth?" He asked.

"Yeah?" His daughter whispered back.

He sat up and swung his feet out of bed.

"What are you looking for?"

"Nothing," she said a bit too quickly. "I'm… I'm just…"

His bottom drawer was open.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, turning the lamp on his bedside table on.

Annabeth sighed. She looked miserable, bags and thin face and waist aside. "My old night light."

Frederic slipped out of bed and went to join her. He gave her hand a squeeze before reaching down and looking between the two farthest piles of essays there. He hadn't moved it.

He pulled it out.

"I can go plug it in," he said.

"I can do that by myself," Annabeth said. She was clutching the night light like a sailor lost at sea held onto a life ring. It stabbed him in the heart a bit, to see such a strong and independent girl scared of the dark again. To see his sixteen year old girl so lost and helpless and tired all the time…

But it warmed his heart to know how brave she'd been to get to this point. How hard she'd worked, how much she'd survived, how clever she'd been.

"But you can't tuck yourself in," Frederic pointed out.

"That I cannot," Annabeth said.

He put an arm around her and guided her back to bed.


	80. Reunions

**Enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters portrayed below.**

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**Reunion**

**In the style of Aphrodite and Jean-Pierre Beauregard**

**_For Anon (Guest)_**

He adjusted Silena in his arms to avoid the catastrophe that would accompany her waking up. Aphrodite traced the lines in his palm.

"It's for 'er safety," he repeated.

"I know," she said. "I'll miss you though."

"As will I," he said. She leaned over and kissed him. Probably for the last time, or so it would be if Jean-Pierre had his way…

"I will miss those chocolate kisses," she said. He insisted that he didn't eat _that _much of the stuff when he was at work… but apparently that's what his kisses tasted like.

"I will miss much more," he said. He knew that they'd both stand there endlessly if they could and so he grabbed the first excuse he could. "I 'ave to go put the baby to bed."

"I should get going too," she said propping up the collar of her coat. "If we meet again, it won't be happy Jean."

She said it nearly omnisciently. Jean winced and tightened his arms around his baby girl. She was the priority. She was the reason he was ready to downsize the apartment and walk away from the first woman he'd ever loved. She was everything now, Silena was. His beautiful baby girl...

"Then we will not," he said plainly.

**Eighteen years later**

The bell rung and Jean frowned. He must have forgotten to lock the door- the shop had closed ages ago. He had wiped the blackboard clean and mopped the floor already, and was dying to go home. It had been a long day in New York, chaotic even with all the damage relief going on.

He rushed from the back of the shop where he was checking on all the freshness of the ingredients. Since he'd inherited the chocolate shop from the man who'd taken him as his apprentice, Mark Gauthier, he hadn't let any of the regal quality-control habits slip. The only thing was that Silena got a few chocolate freebies less now, though he had sent her a box upon hearing what had happened to that young man she'd been seeing. It was a shame, really, a real goddamned shame. He could have seen her living happily ever after with Charles without having a heart attack, and would have been proud to walk her down the aisle and to the man that boy was becoming.

The woman who had stepped inside was waiting by the door. She wore a charcoal trench coat and a dark pencil skirt, her hair was red as copper and cut in a modern and chic look. Her eyes shone green like leaves and he was taken back for a minute.

"Aphrodite?" He asked.

"Mmm-hmm," she said unbuttoning her coat revealing a black chiffon blouse.

"It's good to see you," he stuttered. "Quite a surprise."

"Without a doubt," she said. She didn't sound half as happy, though he'd always known her as one to put on a smile no matter what.

"Can I offer you anything to drink? To eat?" Jean said. He tried not to sound too eager. They'd parted eighteen years ago, after all. But it was good to see her again.

"No Jean, I'm fine thank you," she said.

"Are you alright?" He said.

She looked at him with heavy eyes. "Oh Jean. What did I tell you the last time that I was in this shop, when I left? What did I tell you about our meeting again?"

His blood froze.

"What happened to Silena?" He asked in a single breath.


	81. Tires

**So I feel kind of bad because this prompt has been sitting in the request pad for AGES. But it's here at last, thank you for your patience. Enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters portrayed below.**

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**Tires**

**In the style of Jon Nakamura and Nemesis **

**_For Lady Sakura-Chan_**

He checked at the bar's door to make sure nobody was coming out. With ten minutes to go until New Year's, he was pretty sure that nobody would. Everyone was either

a) too drunk

b) too sober to dare leave their drunk friends alone

c) too sleepy

d) too invested in staying with the party

He squinted in the darkness to read the license plates. Right now he didn't really care whose tires he sliced but he rather get the person he was actually pissed at.

Finally he found the SUV he was looking for, mostly thanks to all of the football team stickers adorning the bumper.

Jon pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed it through the rubber making up the back wheel. It was harder than he'd thought, but Jon wasn't about to go back in now.

_You called me yellow one time too many, _Jon said as he ripped apart the second tire. He sliced it twice for good measure. He remembered the second time he'd gotten beat up- it was the car's driver's fist, Cory McMann's, that had slammed him against a locker. Why? Jon was being too Asian.

_It's not my fault I'm Asian but it's your fault that you're a racist butthead, _Jon had replied. He'd known very little English insults at the time (thus explaining 'butthead'). And even if he would've, he'd still have gotten his nose broken.

He slashed the second front tire. The third time he'd gotten beaten up was because Cory's eight grade girlfriend had asked Jon for help on her science project and he'd apparently been making a move on her while picking up her pencil.

_She doesn't belong to you, she can talk to any guy she likes. And it's called manners you misogynist. _Jon had replied. That had also been the wrong thing to say judging by the ensuing state of his lip. Or maybe Cory just didn't like hearing words that he couldn't spell.

He was about to direct all his energy and adrenaline towards cutting the last tire but someone called out "Don't" and Jon panicked and dropped the Swiss army knife.

A woman with curly black hair and bitter, beetle-like eyes emerged from the shadow, dressed in a leather.

"You wouldn't…" Jon tried.

"Of course I wouldn't tell the bar owner," she said. "Just don't slash the fourth tire."

"What?" Jon asked.

"Don't slash the fourth tire. If you do, the insurance company pays for the damage," she said. "If only three tires are sliced, the repairs get to come out of his pocket."

Jon smiled.

"Thanks. You are…?"

"Nemesis," the woman said. "Pleased to be of service."


	82. Apple Juice

**Hi! I'm back from camp, I had a blast. Okay, few quick things I need to mention before I get this show on the road.**

**1) Peter Capaldi is wonderful. He will parallel Matt Smith perfectly, I like his sense of humour already and I can't wait for him to get started as the Twelfth Doctor.**

**2) Someone went out and translated this story! The someone being Liss1357, and the story being translated to Spanish. I don't know if all the chapters will get done, but two are already up. You can check that out at: s/9559496/1/Parenthood-Drabbles**

**3) I don't know where I ever thought I was going with this drabble but it's been stuck in my head forever and who doesn't like gods with senses of humour for a change?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters.**

* * *

**Apple Juice**

**_In the style of Jupiter and Jason Grace_**

Jupiter was sitting at the kitchen table. It wasn't the most comfortable place to work, but he'd promised Thalia help with her history assignment once she'd gotten home from school.

Jason wandered in from the living room in which he'd been plenty busy with blocks.

"Daddy," he said.

"Yes Jason?" Jupiter asked turning towards the little boy.

"I wanna appa doos," he said.

"Oh," Jupiter said getting up. "Would you like me to get you some appa doos?"

"Nuh uh. Don't wanna appa doos. I wanna appa doos."

"Oh, sorry, I'll just grab you some appa doos then."

"Nuh uh. Appa doos not appa doos."

Jupiter smiled again. Despite his being two years old, Jason held everyone else to very high standards when it came to language and vocabulary. It made him an easy target.

"Appa doos, that's what I said," he insisted.

"_No Daddy._ Appa doos. Jason wanna appa doos."

"Right. A cup of appa doos." Jupiter said.

Jason looked at him incredulous.

"Not appa doos. Appa doos." He repeated.

"Oh, some apple juice?"

"Yes!" Jason said.

"Alright, we can get you some of that. But I think that something's missing."

He gasped when he realised what he was missing.

"I wanna appa doos _please, _daddy."

"There we go," Jupiter said picking him up. "Come on, let's go find you a cup."


	83. Mentality

**I just saw the Sea of Monsters movie last night. Let's just say that I was way happier last time that I updated, though I'm not completely miserable about it. Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters.**

* * *

**Mentality**

**In the style of Sally Jackson and Rick O'Malley**

He barely had a second of free time to adjust the papers all over his table before the next parent sat down in front of him.

"You teach tenth grade enriched classes, right?" The man asked. He wore a security guard's uniform.

"Correct," he said standing up. "I'm John Semone." He glanced quickly at the schedule to see who this guy was supposed to be. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Jackson."

"I'm her uncle," he said. "Rick O'Malley. On her mother's side?"

"Right," John said cursing himself. Sally must've mentioned it to him in class at some point. "You can have a seat."

They both did and John took out Sally's folder of work, papers nearly completely covered in careful and tiny letters with bright red nineties in the corners.

"Well, Sarah-"

"Sally," her uncle said.

"Pardon?" Mr Semone said.

"Sally," he repeated. "She goes by Sally. Not Sarah. Sarah is the name her parents gave her."

John had been calling her Sarah for the entire semester. He heard other teachers calling her Sarah, her friends, students who'd been in the same school as her since kindergarten... _She _went by Sarah. Her uncle, on the other hand, may not.

"Pardon me then," he said. "Sally's doing exceptionally well in class," John said.

Mr O'Malley nodded, not looking very interested but rather tired. Had he come here on a break?

"She's a quick and devoted reader, she has an incredible head on her shoulders and a critical mind for her age. Her writing is exceptional, Mr O'Malley, but I'm sure that that's not news to you."

Still uninterested, but a little bit surprised. Apparently it was.

"She's extremely quiet and she doesn't participate too much in class- but when I talk to her one on one… I'd actually boost her up to the next level if I could, but I don't think that sending her to an eleventh grade class would do her much good. On to the next pillar that we grade our students on… well, oral communication…" he spread his hands and her uncle nodded.

"She's shy," John admitted. "Very shy. Sometimes she even looks scared to be in a crowded room or hallway. Sometimes worryingly so."

Her uncle nodded.

"Surely you've noticed."

"I have."

"Has she always been like this? This bad?"

"She's getting worst," Mr O'Malley grumbled.

Mr Semone nodded and braced himself for what he was about to say. "Have you ever considered getting her a diagnosis for social anxiety?"

"A diagnosis?"

"Right," John said. "For social anxiety. Lots of children are shy, but I think that Sally's case goes above and beyond. There are therapies that could help her... open up, I suppose. Assume her place and look people in the eye and get rid of her stutter."

Mr O'Malley looked lost.

"Have you ever considered this or noticed things? I understand that her childhood was eventful, and not at all for the better. Correct?"

"We lost her mother when she was five," Mr O'Malley said quietly.

"Right. A tragedy. Has Sally ever seen a psychologist?"

He raked his mind, turning over memories.

"Yes, but not for that- that social anxiety thing," he said.

"If you don't mind me asking, for what?" Mr Semone asked, furrowing his eyebrow.

Fatigue really drained into the man's face, and he looked both ways before replying- as if he was crossing a busy street.

"Schizophrenia," he said.

"Really?" John asked, shocked. Mr O'Malley nodded, looking anguished as his eyes made rounds around the gym crawling with parent-teacher conferences, as if scared that someone would overhear.

"We had a scare when she was in middle school. Well, we'd been talking about it for a while. She… well, as a child she'd talk to trees or ponds or just thin air, you know? She'd get scared of perfectly normal-looking folk and have night terrors. She got so agitated so quickly. When she was little she'd make-believe that people were monsters or creatures and then… well, she stopped mentioning it but I've never been convinced that she stopped… seeing these things, you know? Believing that they were true, being afraid."

"I think I understand," John said carefully. He was still surprised. Sally seemed very anchored to the real world- to the news, to schoolwork and her handful of friends. The idea that she was schizophrenic… It was surreal. Then again, was that why she was so obsessed with writing, why she wrote stories with monsters in nearly every assignment. How afraid she looked to be in school.

He'd thought of one day when he'd seen her friends lead her to the bathroom during the free period- in tears because of something a substitute had said or done, though none of the girls with her could explain it…

"I'd appreciate if you didn't mention this to anyone," Mr O'Malley asked. "Not even to her. I'm afraid that if she knows that I know it's not over, she'll stop covering."

"Covering?"

"Clearly there's something wrong with her, sir. You're a professional. You must've noticed."

"No, not much…"

"She's hiding whatever it is that's going on in her head, and frankly it's better for everyone that way." Mr O'Malley said.

John started getting angry. "That's not a healthy attitude to take. If your niece is in danger or has a health issue…"

"I don't have the time or the money for a crazed child," Mr O'Malley said. "If she can manage herself, then by all means let her."

John was devastated. Was this a mentality that was applied to every single aspect of Sally's wellbeing?

He was scared to ask now.

Then again, maybe that's why she was scared too.


	84. Rings

**I just hit 300 pages of The Parenthood Drabbles on the Microsoft Word front! Three cheers! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters.**

* * *

**Rings**

**In the style of Emily Zhang and Mars**

Jason and Percy were still examining each other's shiny new driver's licences as their girlfriends mercilessly rolled their eyes. Frank wasn't judging too harshly. Getting a license as thanks for saving the world and losing your memory would be cool.

Annabeth hugged Daedalus' laptop, rescued from Tartarus and not about to be let go off, to her chest. Piper held in her hand one of Medea's potions; supposedly it would help her father better absorb the news that she was a demigod. Hazel was playing with a dog tag hanging around her throat. It'd belonged to Sammy while he'd fought in WWII, and he'd given it to her when he'd popped up to say hello and diss Leo before returning to the Underworld. She was never going to take it off ever, that was for sure.

The demigods were fidgety. The gods were stoic and still, just like the guards lining the Throne Room.

Leo had seen his mom before anybody else got their reward and he was staring at his shoes now. Not out of spite or whatever, but because he was trying to absorb it and immortalise the moment. Frank understood. And he was kind of hoping… well…

"Frank Zhang," Mars said. "My son."

Frank didn't let his shaky knees show. He'd just fought a monster next to his father. God of war? Maybe. Scary? Not anymore.

He bowed anyways, out of request.

Mars stood and stepped down from his throne. He was a bit closer to Frank.

"I'm proud that you're my son," Mars said quietly. "I wasn't sure, but you made me proud. But of course I'm not the one you want to hear this from."

Frank frowned. Mars didn't look away but he called out in a louder voice.

"Captain Zhang. You may break ranks." He said.

One of the guards lining the room stomped to break and walked out of the line, pulling off his helmet. Her helmet. Her being Mom, wearing full Greek armour- all black leather and shining imperial gold plating.

"Mom," Frank breathed. She shook her bangs out of her face. Her hair was pinned up with golden hairpins, dotted with pearls and blood red jewels. Her sword hung at her waist and she had a spear strapped across her back.

"Sweetheart," she said opening her arms. He could barely move, this was one shock too many. She hugged him, and luckily he remembered to bend down because of how short she was. He remembered to hug her back.

He breathed out in relief when she hugged him. It'd been forever. She'd been in the final month of her tour when she'd died. He hadn't seen her for about a year before he got the message that she wasn't coming back, and he hadn't expected to see her ever again.

The only weird thing was feeling the metal and leather and spear all on her back.

"Oh my gods," he said in her shoulder. She kissed his hair.

"I'm here," she said squeezing his shoulders. "I'm here. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Frank said. "Are you..?"

He stopped midsentence. _Are you alright? _

He wasn't fishing Percy or Annabeth out of Tartarus or greeting Hazel after her duo mission with Jason this time. He couldn't just say 'are you alright?' to his Mom. She was _dead. _'Dead' was more than a skip from 'alright'.

She smiled. "I'm alright, baby. And you? Four limbs, couple of scratches, some pretty intense bruises?"

He shrugged. "They fixed me up on the battlefield." He wasn't about to tell her that he'd nearly lost his arm.

"So I've been told," she said looking at him from top to bottom. She hugged him again. "Gods, I'm happy to hear that. You've grown, why have you grown? And your arms… they're that much stronger, why are they that much stronger?"

"Legion does that to you," Frank shrugged.

Mom smiled. "I'm proud of you. For all of the above and nothing in particular."

"Thanks," he said. "Love you."

"Love you too, baby." Mom said.

Frank pulled away, suddenly snapping back to the strategic mind frame he hadn't been able to escape since stepping on the Argo II.

"Wait- what are you even doing here? You're a guard?" He looked around. "At camp they told us that only demigods were made guards. You're…"

"A legacy," Mom nodded. She looked over at Mars. "Are you telling him or am I?"

The god shrugged casually.

"There's less chance that he'll hit _you_."

"Whoos."

"I calculated my chances- there's a difference."

Mom turned towards Frank with a small smile on her face, and she reached into her armour.

"I don't wear it on my finger but…" she pulled a chain out from her breastplate. Frank saw what was dangling on it- a ring. It was tarnished gold, recently polished. Two snakes circled the finger, with a ruby and a diamond as the eyes.

Mom popped the chain off her neck and it pooled in the cup of her hand. She put the ring on her forefinger. Her left forefinger.

Frank's eyes sprawled.

"What?" He said.

"Nuh-uh," Mom said. "You're smarter than that, don't act dumb."

"You're not… married?" Frank said starring at the ring. "Are you?"

"He did a good job with the ring, didn't he?" Aphrodite gushed.

"_Mom." _Piper hissed.

Mars wrapped an arm around Mom's shoulders.

It shouldn't be that mind-boggling that your dad put his arm around your arm.

But Frank was just thinking _wtf?_

"I never would have left her if she hadn't insisted for your sake," Mars said. "I don't think I've ever stayed with one woman longer. Had more fun. Had a deeper connection…"

"What?" Frank said. "You're married? How does that work? Mom- you're… like… _dead."_

"It took a lot of paperwork," Mom admitted. "The counsel had to agree on it- it was rough; only Neptune and Bacchus were supporting it at first. The rest of the boys came along once Mars confessed that he was talking about me. And things have been so tumultuous lately… But it'd been a while in preparation anyways."

Frank looked at Mars with daggers in his eyes. "You _knew _that she wasn't dead. You let me believe…"

"Frank," Mars said. "Did you honestly need more on your mind?"

"I didn't need to _grieve." _Frank spat.

"That's enough," Mom said sharply. "You know now, and we're lucky that I was allowed to tell you before you died."

"What?" Frank said pale. His head was circling. What was even going on anymore?

"I'm not allowed to speak to you without the presence of at least three gods experienced with the no-interference rule," Mom said. "Same thing with anybody else that is alive."

"But you're… what, a goddess?" Frank asked.

"No," Mom said. "That would require my being born a demigod _then _immortalized. The closest thing I could tell you…"

She looked lost.

"Like Ariadne," Mars said. "A mortal taken as a god's wife."

Mom shrugged and nodded. "Exactly. But with a job."

"Right," Mars said. "Another part of the deal."

Mom explained to Frank, "I'm in charge of Olympus' guard. We'll see if it'll take some off of demigods' hands, having a more elaborate guide. It's not too different from my old job. But I get to keep and use my party trick more openly."

"Party trick?" Frank asked.

Mom stuck her tongue out- long and forked like a snake's. Frank jumped back. Of course he _knew _that he hadn't just pulled the genetics for that out of his butt, but it still shocked him to see Mom actually… do it. Transform. Be even a square inch different from the Mom that he knew and loved.

"You call that your _party trick?"_ Frank asked, stunned.

Mars laughed. "See, even he knows that your mother would kill you for that."

"My mother doesn't have to know," Mom said elbowing him. Mars elbowed her back. She bumped her hip to his. He shoved back.

That's when Frank got it. While he watched his parents push each other around and tease each other… just the fact that Mars _knew _what Grandmother was like…

Percy and Annabeth's parents had remarried after getting over their flings with the gods. Jason's mom had spiralled downwards brutally and mercilessly because she'd found out who Jupiter was, and Piper's dad had never gotten over Aphrodite because he hadn't known or understood why she'd had to leave at all. Leo's mom had worked her entire life while Hazel's mother had been too bitter to get over herself.

Frank's mom? She'd never even dated since Frank's dad 'went missing in action'. He'd heard his godparents and grandmother arguing with her about it.

She was still in love with Mars. And not in a weird can't-get-over-this way, not in a possessive way… she just was. And Mars was too. This was literally the rarest occurrence on earth except maybe peeing soda. There was nothing to do but exactly what had happened.

"I'm probably the most unqualified person to say this, but I guess the ring's kind of nice." Frank finally said.

Mom wrapped her arms around him. Dad wrapped his arms around Mom.


End file.
